


The Rebirth Of Dragons

by icefireSpirit_Wolf



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Death, Dragons, Drama, Explicit Death Scenes, Fantasy, Game of Thrones-esque, Implied Sexual Content, Little Bit of Everything, Multi, Politics, This is a mesh of both show and books as well as fan theories, Violence, battles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-03-26 07:23:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 39
Words: 170,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19001077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icefireSpirit_Wolf/pseuds/icefireSpirit_Wolf
Summary: Sigligon Dilis is one of the descendants of a long line loyal servants to House Targaryen. Their work has been kept secret and hidden even from most Targaryen's for many generations, and the truth of that work could possibly change the outcome of the Targaryen dynasty and the world of Westeros itself.





	1. Chapter 1

"Careful with that Sigi!" She heard her father's hushed and anxious voice warn her. She paused, her heart thundering in her chest as she listened closely to the sounds emanating from outside. The clamor of fighting men, and the smell of fire and blood. They were not through the first gate just yet but soon they would be. Moving at a hurried but slightly more delicate pace she packed the last of the precious cargo into a large leather satchel. It would be heavy to carry but she felt she would be strong enough. Her father peered out the window quickly and swore under his breath, as the sound of wood breaking, echoed up the halls, followed by the sharp scraping of metal on stone as men filled the halls below.

Soon they heard the mournful sounds of fledglings being slaughtered, their cries cut mercifully short. Sigligon looked to her father's slumped shoulders, his lives work being destroyed below in the very halls he owned. He moved hurriedly to reinforce the door. Turning back to her she looked at him. Even in his fearful state he still looked the imposing man, a frame that stood at 6 feet and a quarter hand with a chest filled out from years of controlling and training fledglings. He ran over to his desk and fumbled with a few drawers until finally with a click a secret compartment popped from below. Sigligon had only seen this drawer maybe once or twice, it was there father kept his most important papers and objects. From the desk, he pulled a large object covered with a thick cloth. He motioned towards her to come closer, Stepping forward to him he pushed the bundle into her arms. "Protect it with your life, it holds the secrets of long ago masters." He said quietly and gave her a firm steely gaze.

She nodded weakly and then pushed the object into the other satchel that hung to her waist, next to the small dirk that hung from her belt. The sounds of fervent knocking on the door made both of them jump. "Master Jovarn! Master Jovarn!" the sounds of a small child's voice cried out. Quickly her father unbarred and tore open the door, in one fluid motion he grabbed the figure pulling them into the room and closed and barred the door once more. "Quiet!" he whispered harshly. It was one of the young Handler Apprentices. He stood against the wall, the sunlight reflecting the horror in his teary eyes. The boy clutched a blanket tightly to his chest, and after a few moments, Sigligon noticed there were fervent movement and noises coming from within.

Her father noticed these too and quickly grabbed the blanket and tore it away, unveiling three small hatchlings that bounced and lay dazed upon the bed. Her father gasped his eyes wide and his mouth ajar before it broke and a wave of happiness washed over it before a slight glimmer of torment crossed his face. "You managed to save them, very good my child," he said his voice choking. Jovern turned back to Sigligon and the boy, both children held questioning looks unsure of what was to be done. His heart galloped in his chest, every fiber of his being was in defensive mode to protect them all.

Moving forward he placed the three small hatchlings into the middle of the blanket and then wrapped and tied it so as to create a small bag out of it. "We must flee now," he said placing a hand on each of their shoulders. The boy was still crying but looked to him with resolve. " Robert's men will be here any moment, they will want to destroy every last Dragon and artifact they can find, and anyone stopping them," he said darkly making sure both of them understood. Sigligon looked up at him her eyes wide with fear "Why are they doing this" she said her voice barely above a whisper. He signed and squeezed onto her shoulder tightly. "The king has been slowly going mad," he said bluntly, no longer wishing to hide the truth from them.

"The rebellion rose to end it" He continued "I had hoped one of his sons would take the throne before the rebellion came here, but it matters not, now we must run" He quickly got up, checking the door once more before turning and grabbing the sword that leaned against his desk, quickly he strapped it to his side and gathered all he could. Sigligon watched as her father strapped his sword to his side. When finished his eyes darted to theirs "What was your name boy?" her father asked suddenly confusion on his face. "Korb...Hills... Sir" was the stuttered reply the boy gave. Her father nodded "Well Korb I need you to be in front, we are going to the East tower, do you know the way?" Korb nodded fearfully. Joverns head swiveled towards her, "Sigligon, you will be in the middle, I shall be behind you both" He rose than let a small sigh leave him.

Walking towards the door he motioned for Korb and for her. Quickly following after him her father grabbed the bag with the dragon hatchlings in and motioned them out. They stepped out into the hallway, there were no armored men just yet, but Sigligon was not taking any chances as quickly and quietly as she could she scampered forward following Korb, she felt Joverns presence just behind her, it comforted her if only slightly so. The halls were filled with torches and the mid-afternoon sun shown through the windows giving them a well-lit path towards the East tower, walking quickly and quietly across the stone floor and keeping as much away from the railings as possible so as not to be seen. The sounds of destruction had lessened, though occasionally the sounds of men's laughter and the breaking of wood could be heard.

They made the journey to the east tower without incident, upon reaching the doorway her father pushed his way past them and paused at the door holding his ear to it, listening to see if anyone was behind it. He nodded assuring them all that the room was clear, quickly he threw open the door and ushered them inside. The room was untouched, books filled the walls and papers lay scattered on the desk in the middle of the room. Quickly her father closed and locked the door and then walked around the room inspecting the contents of the shelves and muttering to himself. "Luckily," he said suddenly "Most of these books are unnecessary" he commented.

He went to the desk and folded up a few papers "These will need to be saved, however" he ushered the Korb over "Take these, keep them safe" he motioned towards Korb. Korb followed his commands, the fear in his eyes still present but not as strong. The makeshift bag of hatchlings began to stir as the young dragons got their bearings from within. Her father grabbed the thick cord that hung around his neck where hung a wooden object of his own invention. It was a carved whistle that could fit in the palm of one's hand, one that father had meticulously worked on multiple times to get right. Holding it up to his mouth he blew into one of the narrow openings on the top of the object. A low whirring filled the room, sounding like the low chuffs of a dragon as it calmed the hatchlings.

Her father nodded once more than strode over towards a far bookcase searching around for a moment before he spotted a row of books. Nimbly he pushed them aside and reached back behind them Sigligon heard an audible 'thunk' then slowly the bookcase began to move inward into the wall while doing so a few small clicks began to echo as the bookcase than began to swing open like a door, revealing a dark staircase. They heard the distant pounding of footfalls and clinking armor as men began to ascend the stairs outside the room. With haste, her father ushered the both of them pass the swiveled bookcase and into the landing of the staircase that lies beyond it. Taking care to grab a torch he took one final glance around the room before re-positioning the books back in place and swinging the shelf shut.

It was silent and dark for a few moments. Sigligon felt the cold air from below blow across her ankles. She shivered and tried to peer for her father in the encompassing darkness. His voice now holding a small twinge of relief spoke calmly. "This is a secret passage, only a select few people know of it, we should be safe now." Just as he finished she heard the sound of a flint hitting the rock. A few small sparks and suddenly a small flame lept to life, growing slowly Sigligon was soon able to see her fathers comforting face. He looked down at her and gave her a small smile. "Be calm my girl." He said adjusting the bag of hatchlings. He looked to Korb and held out the bag. Korb reached a hand outwards and ever so carefully took the bag from him.

Her father motioned to the stairs, stepping in place behind him they descended together in silence. The air was cold and tinged slightly with damp. Sigligon shivered and adjusted the bags whose staps were digging into her shoulders. The way ahead was dark, what little light that was emitted from her father's torch only showed blank stone walls that seemed to have been carved a long long time ago. "What will happen Sir" Korb piped up his voice echoing. Jovarn spoke "The king is most likely dead, as I said I am hoping one of the prince's or the Queen survives. We will hide and secure the future of the Targaryen's Dragons, as is our duty. Once I hear news of a survivor we will go to them, they will be happy to know that some of the precious dragons survived."

Sigligon thought of all the hatchlings, the ones that could fit in your palms, and the fledglings who were no bigger than dogs, they were such curious and playful creatures. Quite a few she had named herself, now all of them dead except the three now with Korb. "Only three dragons are left?" she asked her father. She saw a faint smile tugging her father's mouth. "No, we have three hatchlings but we still have eggs." Sigligon turned her head questioning and then the realization hit her as to why her bags seemed so heavy on her. "They are in my bags," she said realization hitting her. Jovern nodded "You carry four, and I have two more in my own, these are the ones I procured on my last trading journey, the people in old Valaria dig these up thinking they are only dead stones, things to sell to nobles as conservation pieces, it's true that most are in fact dead, but to the properly trained ear and eye you can find ones still viable." "So many!" Sigligon exclaimed renewed hope filling her. "yes this year the miners hit a very viable clutch." her father answered her.

Korb was silent. "If we have so many dragons and hatchlings why is there no fully gown ones anymore?" Her father was silent the only sounds heard was the fall of their footsteps. "The king was a fool." Sigligon gasped, but her father continued ignoring her "Zaldrizes buzdari iksos daor." He spoke sternly in Valyrian. 'A dragon is not a slave' her mind translated for her. This phrase was one of the very first her father taught her when she began learning Valyrian. Jovern continued speaking answering Korb's question "Fledglings need fresh air, sunlight and good heat source to grow, keeping them cooped up indoors in cold castles with the wrong diet makes them susceptible to diseases I begged the king to let me follow the instructions of the ancient texts, but he would have none of it, but he didn't want people seeing them. He wanted them safe, but in doing so he caused their demise." Her father shook his head "How many fledglings have I watched grown lethargic and die, how many outbreaks of sickness have I tried to stop but no, clutch after clutch all eventually died or were killed." her father sighed with that last sentence.

Sigligon stayed silent while in thought, Korb did not say anything either. "So these dragons might have a chance to be full grown?" she asked hopefully. She knew how hard her father worked to fulfill their family's duty to their King. So many late nights and early mornings of constant watching and caretaking but no matter what it was for not, eventually one by one the small hatchlings would grow still and silent and her father would painstakingly have to remove them and destroy the evidence of his failed work. Her father looked at her and nodded. He leaned over and ruffled her curls. "Yes, Sigi." He said using her pet name. "Imagine a full-grown dragon again," Korb said excitedly. Her father turned to Korb. "My boy I think you will see one sooner than you think." He said firmly while pushing forward faster.

Sigligon and Korb rushed to keep up with his long strides. Sigligon and Korb glanced to each other. Sigligon remembered when her father brought the boy here, it was only a few months ago, Jovern had found him in Lannisport, an unfortunate Bastar being forced to work much too hard by the stable master, Jovern took the boy in as an apprentice and helper He seemed to be close to her age maybe eight or nine. He had a head full of dark brown hair with some lighter blonde tones that seemed to stick out in every place imaginable and from what she could tell light blue eyes. They gave each other a look of confusion and followed Jovern, the hallway seemed to be endless and Sigligon began to think she would never see the sun again. But just as she was about to ask her father when they could rest he stopped abruptly. She went to his side and looked up to him, about to ask what was going on when she noticed he was staring straight ahead intently.

She followed his line of sight and noticed that the walls had widened out and the ceiling had raised and before them was a set of giant stone doors. The doors were covered in intricate inlaid carvings of dragons flying over a battlefield; in another section were myriads of dragons flying about a torrent of fire. Whoever was the artist must have worked numerous hours to carve such intricate detail, upon close study of the doors she could see individual house sigils on armor, many of them were from houses that were now extinct but some still remained around to this day. So intricate and so close was the attention to detail and craftsmanship of this door that there were even some men in the carving possessing scars and different facial hair, as well as the detail on the horses, their eyes wide with fear rearing up with delicate but powerful legs.

Sigligon let out a slow breath of admiration and put her hand to the door, it was warm beneath her palm, she felt along the ridges of the door tracing the muscular necks of the horses, the smooth feel of the men's shields and the prickly feel to the dragon's skin. Her father tapped her shoulder and she moved aside digging into his belt pouch he brought out a large key. With ease, he brought it to the small keyhole that was wrapped with a small dragon around the metal. Turning it she heard the audible click, then a series of louder clicks till finally a large 'thud' that made her jump. He opened the massive door slowly, its hulking weight proving to be a challenge for her father. Quickly he ushered them through. It was dark at first, but as the corridor, they had just passed through her eyes began to adjust. She looked around she was in a large oblong cavern reminding her of a cave more than a castle room. All around moss and lichen grew along the walls and floor, as she studied the room she noticed that a thin beam of light was being cast down in the middle of the room, its source to her eyes seemed to be a skylight of some kind however she was too far away to inspect. Instead, she was distracted by the dull but constant sounds of waves crashing against a shoreline.

Sigligon caught Korb's eye and they both walked over to the nearby wall on their left. It was covered in an odd patchwork of moss, the stone that they could see looked to be far older than anything she had ever seen, it was smooth and of a dark gray variety that seems to be worn away by time and the elements. The crashing of waves grew louder the closer they stood to the wall. "It's the ocean," her father's voice said suddenly, startling the both of them. "How can that be?" Korb asked turning to him. Her father grinned looking down at the boy. "We walked further than you thought eh?" Korb nodded in shock. "Come," her father said re shouldering his bag. She heard the faint protest of the hatchlings to this move. "Shouldn't we let them out father?" she asked him. Jovern stopped and stood motionless for a beat before she could see the back of his head shake. "No, we will let them out when we are in a safe place." Korb piped up "But isn't that where we are?" Jovern turned swiftly a finger to his lips, he motioned to the skylight. "That opening leads up right into kings landing and young voices echo." Fear took Sigligon once more, they were only a layer of stone and dirt away from their enemy. She whispered out cautiously. "Then where can we go?" Jovern smiled at her, reassuring that she was safe. "Do not worry little one there is a place for us to be safe."

He turned again this time striding over to the other side of the room. Carefully walking around the light from the opening in the ceiling so as not to be seen Sigligon followed him. Jovern handed the satchel once more to Korb who took the satchel gingerly as the hatchlings were beginning to tumble about. Jovern frowned noticing this. Then once again he reached to his neck grabbing his special whistle to quickly put it to his lips. Taking a quick intake of air he softly blew into the whistle. The noise that it produced hummed softly in the air around them and the bag in Korb's hands slowly began to calm down as several chirps and squawks answered Joverns whistle, once again the hatchlings were quiet and still. Jovern sighed and turned back to the task at hand. He reached down and pushed at the very ground itself and Sigligon noticed now in the fading light a strange symbol was etched on a stone that curiously had all the moss cut away from it. Pressing down slowly the stone began to sink, this captivated Sigligon and she stepped closer. Her father turned his head to her and motioned with his eyes for her to step back. She quickly jumped back to the floor in front of the special stone began to collapse. The deafening grating sound of Stone on stone filled the cavern. Sigligon winced but the sound quickly began to taper off and continued to slide open more quietly. Once again Sigligon was looking down a mysterious dark staircase.

Jovern handed Korb his torch and relight it before motioning for them to begin to descend the steps. The sudden bark of a man shouting overhead made Sigligon freeze in place. Jovern pushed her to the steps. Korb jumped onto the stairs with her. Her heart was pounding as she found herself scampering down the steps without thinking. Jovern stood at the top of the stairs her father looking like a giant from this angle. He waited patiently his eyes studying what could have only been the skylight. Sigligon heard the muffled sounds of a man talking. "I heard a noise over here" followed by the clinking of armor. "Probably some peasants hiding." Another voice answered him. "You think we should look? Could be somebody worthwhile down there, or a nice big breasted whore to fuck" The man laughed loudly.

"Come off it now, we have duties to do, no time to be fucking, especially when that excuse of a sword of yours wouldn't be seen fit for a fish wife let alone a big breasted whore." "You pig fucker!" the first man said angrily. The sound of a scuffle seemed to break out. The heavy sounds of two men grunting and armor thudding into armor, insults were furiously barked at one another. "Your sister fucks wildings-" "Your mother married a pillow biter-" "WAIT, MY HELMET!" One of the men roared out as a sudden clanging sound entered the room, Sigligon popped her head up to see what the noise was only to view a large object barreling towards her. She screamed and ducked as she felt the object fly past her head, it clanged loudly against the wall and steps and rolled off into the darkness in front of them. She held a hand to her mouth in stunned surprise, then fear gripped her tightly as she looked to her father.

He gritted his teeth and silently drew his sword. He descended the steps quietly. Whispering quickly through clenched teeth "Douse the light! Hide further down! Wait for me to return!" Korb doused the light and Sigligon was cast into darkness. She held her breath, her heart was pounding like a drum in her chest. She felt her limbs shaking. She heard the sound of pebbles falling and the grunts of a man, the creaking of a rope straining against heavyweight also could be heard. She sensed her father move away from her. She wanted to reach out and grab him to tell him not to leave her. A cold chill went down her spine the thought of her father leaving them alone in this dark unknown place was bad enough, but the thought that followed that one was even colder. A small whisper barely louder than the sound of breathing she pleaded with the gods "Don't let him die, please...he is all I have." "What in the Seven is this place." A gruff voice spoke out.

Sigligon put a hand over her mouth as she listened intently to what was happening above. "Looks lik' en old part of tha city, I heard from me grand ma once that during the early reign of the dragon kings a lot of cities burned and got rebuilt over." There was a pause where nothing happened from what Sigligon could hear. "I swore I heard a scream," the one man said next. "Never mind that! That helmet belongs to my Da!" The other once said harshly cursing under his breath. "Well, how do you expect ta find it in here!" The other man grunted out sounding very annoyed. "You got a torch?" One asked. After some grumbling, the one man spoke up "Your lucky I was on night watch last night." Sigligon heard a striking of a flint then the sound of a flame spring to life. She crept backward slowly to hide more into the depths of the tunnel.

The air was cold and held a salty tang. The noises of the men were muffled now and she could hear the sound of the ocean even louder. A voice cut through the sounds. "Oi! Who are you?" a man yelled questioningly. "Hands up, drop that sword!" the other barked. Even though she was afraid she began to creep forward again, she wanted to see what was happening, to make sure her father was okay. "Im...im n-no one sirs" Her father stuttered out. Only his voice was different, it was thick with the accent of a low streets commoner. She knew her father was good at languages, hence why he could read and speak Valyrian, but she had no idea he could do accents as well. "A no one hiding down here, with a sword like that?" One man suspiciously said. "I'd believe a commoner having a Valyrian steel blade when the Lady of the seven appeared from the sky to give me a good sucking." This caused both of them, men, to laugh. "So, How about you tell us who you really are, and we will be sure to give ya a quick death, taking that fine blade off you as well, dead men have no need for such finery." Her dad didn't speak while they laughed.

Once they had finished chuckling he spoke. Calmly he said, "I have no quarrel with either of you, and I do not want to have to kill either of you, but you are impeding on my business and I don't really like that." The men snorted in anger. "Fucker, you think you can take the likes of us? It's two against one!" Sigligon at this time had crept up far enough to be able to peak over the edge of where the stairs had formed. In the light of the torch, she was able to see that both men were dressed in the Baratheon colors, both seemed to be of average height and weight. They wore simple armor, neither wore family crests not had the refinement of 'Noble' armor. To what Sigligon could see they seemed to be simple foot soldiers. One of them was missing a helmet while the other wore his with the visor pushed up but she could not make many details on either man's face in the light. She glanced to see her father, he held his sword in one hand and had a large object balanced against his hip and other arms. 'The other helmet' she thought to herself.

Jovern spoke, "If you have to claim that your advantage is in number than you are shite at fighting." he said plainly and rather calmly. With a roar, the one man without a helmet advanced. Jovern took a few steps back. "Hold, I would never fight a man who is not fully armored-" Upon finishing speaking her father grunted as he held the helmet aloft and threw it with a force towards the advancing man. The man paused only a moment as Sigligon watched as the heavy object was hurled through the brief expanse between the two men before the helmet connected square in the man's face. She winced as she heard an audible crunch as the man's nose was broken. With a grunt and a torrent of blood, he staggered backward clutching his face as he bellowed out like a stuck pig.

Her father sprang into action taking advantage, he leaped forward his sword now in both hands came up in a flicker of blue light and then easily plunged itself into the man's stomach. Sigligon watched the sword disappear through the armor, it crumpled around the entry point of the sword. The sounds of metal screeching against metal filled the room. Sigligon watched in horror as blood gushed out of the man, soaking his armor he collapsed as her father withdrew the blade in a fluid motion. It had happened in such a small time frame the other man didn't know how to react, he had enough sense to toss his torch to the ground and to put two hands to his own sword. He was able to bring up his blade to meet her fathers. Jovern pulled away from the other soldier they circled a few paces, the light of the fire and the skylight-lit up both warriors.

Sigligon glanced over at the man her father had struck down. She could see more of his face now in the light. It was mangled from where the helmet had struck him, his nose looked almost caved in, blood covered his mouth and his eyes stared vacantly into her own. Bile rose to her mouth and tears rose to her eyes. She wanted desperately to turn away but the dead man's eyes held hers and she was trapped, locked by his gaze with no ability to tear her eyes away. A dull thudding began to build in her temples and the world seemed so far away in this moment. But the sounds of swords clashing brought her back, she managed to swallow her bile and tear her eyes away from the men. Now her father grappled with the remaining man. He attacked viciously striking fast and switching directions of attack with well-trained ease. Her father now on the defensive, bide his time while he met each of the blows and easily averted them off his blade. The man was panting, he was like an enraged boar, spittle coming out his mouth.

He roared and launched into an erratic series of swings, forcing her father to tread backward. She began to worry she could see the sweat that was on her fathers' brow, the concentration knitted in his face. She bit her lip, her limbs shaking. With a sudden burst of energy, her father blocked the man's sword than brought his whole body forward like a bull in a charge. This sudden momentum took the man off guard his sword was caught by her father's blade and he couldn't free it. Her father's shoulder met the man's chest as he put all his force into pushing the man across the room. Sigligon realized that they were coming closer to her she ducked down further so as not to be seen. With a grunt and the sound of metal on metal, her father pushed the man off of him with a burst of strength. The man stumbled backward something her father was not expecting as her father was already in an overhead swing but his swing came down on empty air.

The man continued to stumble backward tripping on the blood of his fallen comrade and the uneven stone beneath his feet. Before she could react the man was at the edge of the ledge. He fell backward, she felt the whoosh of air as his body nearly missed her. She let out a cry and stepped backward pressing herself against the wall, attempting to make herself as small as possible. The man groaned then turned his head looking right at her. "Well hello little one." the man said his voice deep and exhausted. Siglgion's blood froze as the man's lips parted revealing bloody teeth his eyes seem to glow with a dangerous and unearthly light, petrified by what she was seeing she could only stare and brace herself for her eventual death, she pinched her eyes closed and began to pray.


	2. Chapter Two -Safety-

"Sigi!" Her father's voice cried out. Siglgion's eyes snapped open as she whipped her head towards her father as he barreled down the steps towards them, his sword drawn. The man in front of her rolled towards her as if to grab her. She shrieked, panicking she pressed herself as flat as she could against the wall flinching as she sees the man reach towards her.

Her father leaps and knocks himself into the man, effectively tackling him to the ground, Sigligon moved past the two adults deciding to run back up the stairs. She stopped when she reached the top and turned to see her father grappling with the man below. The fear for her life now out of the way she watched in horror as her father wrestled with the man. The two figures grunted and strained and she began to sob wishing this would all stop, her heart was beating so fast and so loud her breath coming in rapid gasps but then a flicker of light caught her eye. There! on the ground next to them was her father's sword that had been abandoned in the fall.

She saw the hilt only a few feet away from her father and the man. Both men still grunted and strained, seeming to ignore their weapons. In a feat of strength, her father flipped the man over and was currently seated on top of the man's chest, both his hands tight around the man's neck. The man had one arm straining against her father's hands, allowing him the ability to breathe in tight gasps. The other was clawing at her fathers face while he kicked out at her father but nothing landed.

Sigligon swallowed. Her mouth was so incredibly dry and the fear in her had tightened into a ball in her stomach and chest. But even though fear consumed her, she knew she had to help Jovern.

She scampered down the steps her objective in her mind. Despite being afraid and having little strength she knew what she had to do. Reaching for the hilt of the visible blade she snatched it from the ground. Instantly her arm dipped. The sword was incredibly heavy and she was not expecting it. She grunted and managed to lift it up. Turning to the two men a memory of her father's voice rang out clear in her mind. ' _Point the sword and follow through do not give up_.'

Gritting her teeth she aimed for the only weak point she could see in the flicker of the torchlight, the armpits of the armor. She stepped forward putting her body behind the force of the blade. She managed to strike where she aimed and even managed to drive the blade in an inch or two.

The man cried out in agony. Her father now aware of what was happening and what she was doing threw himself towards her. Knocking her away from the man and the blade. The man was in pain and weakened greatly so her father quickly grabbed the hilt and drove it deeper into its target. There was a terrible shriek as the sword plunged deeper. Blood bubbled from the man's lips and she heard a few last gasps before his body went still and slowly she heard the sound of air hissing from deflating lungs.

A deafening silence filled the room. Sigligon was sunken against a wall her body shivering like a leaf. She could scarcely put a thought together, her mind was racing as fast as her beating heart. A sob took her, she just wanted this all to end. The fighting, the blood, the running just all of it. She buried her face in her hands. Hot tears rolled down her tightly scrunched face. Her jaw trembled as she began to weep uncontrollably.

Her father's voice was in her ear and she felt his arms cradle and lift her up into his lap as he held her. There they sat on the cold floor she sobbed into his shirt, her hand's arms wrapped around his neck tightly not wanting to let him go. He rocked slightly as a hand ran circled around her back, he hummed to her softly, nothing she recognized but it was calming. It felt like hours but it could have only been a few minutes.

Slowly her body began to relax and calm down. She lifted her head and looked up into his deep blue eyes. He gave her a small smile. He had a torrent of sweat and even a few scratch marks on his face but he was still her father through and through. She put her head over his shoulder and hugged him, his scruffy beard tickling the side of her neck. He spoke finally. "My courageous little one." She pulled back, fresh tears beginning to fill her eyes. She shook her head "But I'm not!" she interjected. "I was never so scared!-but I had to help you!"

Jovern shushed her and put a hand to her cheek. "Being afraid is apart of being courageous, I was afraid too, but I knew I had to fight, I had to protect you no matter what." She wiped her tears from her eyes and sniffled. A voice came from the darkness of the tunnel.

"I...Is it okay to come out now?" Korb's voice wavered as he was afraid as well. Jovern turned and spoke to the dark tunnel. "Yes Korb, come here." He encouraged Korb, beckoning him to come out. Korb's figure appeared. He clutched the bags tightly, his face and knuckles white. "Come here," Jovern said lifting an arm to bid the boy to come to his side. Korb meekly did as was told and sat next to them.

Their they sat. Sigligon on her fathers lap and Korb next to them Joverns arm protectively around them both. Jovern let out a loud sigh "Are you both okay?" Sigligon wiped the remaining tears on her face and nodded.

"I think I'm okay now father," she answered. Jovern looked to Korb. "How about you Korb?" Korb had a worried expression on his face but he nodded. "I am okay...I think, thank-you for caring Sir."

Jovern nodded "Your welcome Korb, and call me Jovern, I don't think Sir is warranted at the moment." Korb nodded "of course Si- Jovern," he said correcting himself. Sigligon turned and looked to the dead man a few feet away, there was a small pool of blood forming underneath him and beginning to expand towards them.

"Father...the man,...his blood." Jovern looked to where she pointed. He grunted then gently nudged her. "Go stand on that step," he said nodding his head to the first step. She gingerly stood up and hopped up onto the first step.

Jovern looked to Korb and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Do not be afraid Korb, Like I said I will make sure to protect you." Korb nodded but then said in a dark tone "You are just doing this because of the dragons right? I'm just a bastard why would you care?" Korb stated his voice flat.

Jovern was taken aback by Korb's tone but softened. He positioned himself so he was facing Korb. "Korb look at me, please." Korb lifted his face to look to Jovern. " I care about YOU Korb, yes the dragons are important of course, but so are YOU, and YOU are not just a bastard, you are still a person, and you deserve to be protected." Korb was stunned at what Jovern said. Sigligon could see the trust for Jovern grow in Korbs eyes. His face broke out into a small grin and she could see that he sat just a tad straighter. "Thank-you Jovern, you have no idea how much that means to me."

Jovern brought the boy in for a one-armed hug. Korb seemed doubly surprised by this but welcomed it. Jovern let go and stood. Korb hopped to his feet next to him. "I know how bastards are treated in these lands, and let it be known I don't agree with them, blood is blood no matter a marriage or not," Jovern stated looking down at Korb. His gaze hardened as if he was remembering something or someone important. Jovern shook his head to bring himself out of his thoughts. He strode around the pool of blood and grabbed the hilt that was sticking out of the man's underarm. Pulling the sword out in a clear motion he grunted. Looking back at them he sighed. He wiped his blade on the fabric of the man's undershirt to clean it off some before he sheathed his sword.

Sigligon stared at the dead man, she could not see this one's eyes but she remembered the sound of his dying breath. "I didn't know you could fight like that." She said blankly followed by "Or that you had a Valyrian steel sword, I thought only the King had that." Jovern grunted. "A man in this world Sigi...he...he needs to know how to fight, I was trained yes, but fighting and killing is not something to boast about," Jovern said shaking his head. "Too many young fools think life is about wars and fighting, never thinking about the cost or the reasoning why," he added frowning Sigligon stared at her father as if seeing him in a new light.

"You have killed before?" she asked tentatively. Jovern clenched his jaw, he waited a few moments before answering. "I have, but it is not something I wish to discuss here, as for the sword it was a gift from the Royal family to ours several generations ago, they had few, but they give them to those they trust most."

Sigligon nodded understanding. Korb spoke next. "What do we do with them?" he asked pointing to the dead men. Jovern glanced to Korb then looked at the man to his feet then up to the other on the floor away from them. He gave an exasperated sigh before he replied, "For now I shall move them and cover them up, I will return in a day or so to get rid of them." Sigligon looked at her father in horror, the thought of touching dead bodies even now but a day later? Jovern glanced at them both then to the bag on Korb's lap. "Let me take them now," he said his hand reaching out to Korb.

Korb gently lifted the bag and handed them to Jovern. Jovern taking it quickly undid the top to peek in. He seemed satisfied with what he saw and nodded closing the bag as he did. Moving the bag to his shoulder he motioned for both of them to follow once more.

He paused as if remembering something. "Wait here," he said pointing to the entrance of the tunnel. Sigligon stepped down and waited next to Korb. She gave a meek smile to him. He smiled back as they both waited for Jovern. Jovern came back holding the torch the men had brought with them as well as the rope they used to rappel down here. "Now we can go."

Following her father through the tunnel. Sigligon was finally able to sort through her thoughts. The fight replayed through her mind. She had many questions about lots of things. Mainly where they were going, but not only that but things about what would happen in the days to come, where will they live where will they raise the dragons, what about the rebellion, who would be the new King? Sigligon wished she could ask this but knew her father was exhausted and would have little energy to spare for her questions.

Sigligon stifled a yawn as well. Her legs were tired from the fast pace of keeping up with her father. Her chest and back hurt from the straps of bags holding the eggs. She had checked while she was running no eggs were harmed, at least from what she could tell. All the while she was walking she could hear the dull roar of the ocean, but surely they had reached the coast by now? Or passed it? It was also cold, very cold and damp there were even moments where she could see her breath in front of her face. There were also times when moving down the tunnel the floor would be wet like clay and she would have to carefully move across it so as to not slip and fall.

Soon the sounds of the ocean were now steadily growing, she could smell not only the salt air of the ocean but the trees as well. Hope fueled her to move faster. Although she could still only see the light from her fathers' torch she felt like the end must be in sight.

Jovern continued going then stopped suddenly. He turned to them, both had to catch their breath. Jovern was sweaty and obviously tired but he remained strong. "Listen, before we continue, you must know that there are steps right here." He hovered the torch over them so that both of them could see.

"Second you need to know when we go through that door you must listen and do as I say, EXACTLY. AS. I. SAY." He said his voice revibrating off the walls as he stressed the last words with extreme importance. He held their gaze until Sigligon nodded "Yes...I will do as you ask." "So will I" Korb stammered out. Jovern sighed and muttered under his breath. "Okay stay behind me for now."

They ascended up the few steps to a large door. although this one was not as large or as intricate as the first door, it seemed very old to Siglgion's eyes. Jovern put the torch in a holder on the wall then grabbed the large handle on the door. It looked to be a heavy metal one and Sigligon wondered how her father had the strength to open it.

Jovern grunted as he pushed at the door. Slowly it inched open, at first only a small crack of dull light shone through but as the door gave way under her father's strength more and more soft light shone through. Sigligon peered out past her father, the sky was awash with red and orange glows underneath stars dimly shone breaking their way through the suns dying light. With an echoing thud, the door fully opened Jovern exclaimed triumphantly.

Stepping out, his arms outstretched as he relished in the fresh air, he led them out into the outdoor world once more. Sigligon blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the light, even at sunset it seemed so bright. She surveyed her surroundings. The door they had exited was one that seemed to be fused into the side of a sea cliff, In fact, they were completely surrounded by seacliffs on all sides.

Tall rugged cliffs of dark stone resembling to her like the cascading scales of a sleeping dragon. The cliffs rose up hundreds of feet their sharp spires advancing like nails lashed out towards the sky. The area they stood in seemed to be a small corner tucked away nicely among the rocks. In front of her, she could see a weathered walking trail leading through the grass and up to a small slope what was beyond there she could not tell for the trail took a sharp bend around a large tower of rock.

There was a small shore to her right, the water lapped calmly against it from what she could see there was no way to get to the ocean from where they stood, as the ocean itself was blocked off by one of the large walls of stone. The water must be entering and leaving through an underwater passage of some sorts was the only way it could be here Sigligon surmised.

Jovern led them up the path making sure to keep both arms extended outwards as if shielding them from something. Sigligon looked up at the cliffs she noted they completely wrapped around this area as if they were inside a giant bowl. When they rounded the corner Sigligon could hear the bleating of goats. She leaned her head around her father's arm and saw nestled far ahead was a small building It was made of gray stone and had the shape of a box, which was odd considering most houses have a steepled roof of some sort. But this one was complete stone and reminded her of more an armory more so than a house.

In front of the house, there were about twenty or so goats. Several larger big horned males challenged each other while the females milled about with their young leaping and playing next to them. Sigligon laughed aloud at their antics for the kid goats ran about in such odd ways. Her father caught her eye and a single glance told her to be silent. She pursed her lips What was he so afraid of? There were only goats and nothing else.

She glanced up towards the sky with the light dying she could now see that at the very top of the cliffs were hundreds of strange strands running across the area, like a large web. This web was strung from cliff to cliff and across the expanse of the tiny valley, they stood in. Jovern noticed her looking at them and spoke out loud to them both. "Those are chains, they have been there for more than a hundred years."

"Why?" asked Korb confused his neck craning to study them. "Why do you think?" Jovern asked a brow cocked. Sigligon took in the chains and the entire area they stood in, to her, it seemed as if they were inside a giant greenhouse, but that wasn't right for there was no glass on the chained ceiling, the chains swayed to and fro with the wind. Her next thought was a cage, "It is a fortress? Do the chains protect us from something?" she wondered aloud hoping she guessed right.

But it was Korb who answered her "It is a cage...and it keeps something in." Sigligon glanced over at Korb who stared up eyes wide at the chains. Siglgion was confused, keep what in, goats? She imagined for a moment goats attempting to climb the sheer cliffs around them. How tall were the cliffs? Surely they were in a position where no one on a ship could even spot this place because of them.

She did note that to the very far side of the 'bowl' she could see the faint tops of trees at the top of one of the flatter cliff tops. She looked to her left, she saw large gouge marks in some of the rocks along with what looked to be bone fragments strewn about. The area that this 'bowl' encompassed was actually quite large, comfortable enough for a dozen or so families and their animals to fit and even had room to spare to expand.  _'But why only one house? Why the goats? Why the chains?_ ' she thought to herself.

She was beginning to tire and that house looked very inviting. She didn't care if there was no fire or blankets. A flat surface to lie down on would be heaven for her. "I am tired father, can we go to sleep? she begged. Jovern grimaced he too seemed exhausted, he rubbed his temples before nodding "Yes, we will just one more thing before we can."

Sigligon did something that she had not done in a long while, she pouted. Her entire body ached from walking and she was sick of carrying these heavy bags, what more did Jovern want from her? Jovern gave her a stern look "I know you are tired Siglgion" his voice taking a stern tone as he crossed his arms "But this is important for our safety so I need you to be strong for just a little while longer. He gave her a knowing look but then his face softened and he added "Please" in a hushed voice.

Sigligon felt her face get hot, she felt guilty for getting angry at Jovern, he was trying to protect them and here she was complaining. She stared down at her feet "I am so sorry father" she apologized glancing up from underneath her bangs. Jovern nodded and beckoned them forwards towards the house, "Come" he stated.

She and Korb followed, both of them dragging their feet in exhaustion as they did. They walked a little more ways up the path before Siglgion noticed there was a large cave opening to the far right just out of the corner of her eye. Around this cave entrance the ground had been dug up and trampled on greatly and she could see the remains of a few goat carcasses and even a few cows, their bones bare and lie strewn about.

Jovern guided them over to a nearby boulder. He then commanded them to sit. He was very agitated all of a sudden and seemed anxious. They did as they were bided without objection both of them thankful for the chance to rest. Jovern rubbed his hands together and paused for a moment as he looked down at them. Taking a large breath in than exhaling he kneeled down to their level.

"Remember how brave you two were when those men attacked us?" Siglgion nodded but shuddered at the memory she did not wish to relive it. He leaned in close his eyes almost begging them "I need you to be brave once more, okay? So stay here and do not make any sound, got it?"

Siglgion nodded she knew her father was counting on her. Jovern smiled and squeezed her hand, he then turned to Korb. Korb nodded as well confirming he would remain seated and silent. Jovern rose up stiffly, an air of resolve taking hold in him. He turned towards the cave entrance, his back to them but Sigligon still saw the movement of him reaching up to his whistle. He licked his lips and blew a low long sound from it. The sounds reminded Sigligon of a cows bellow mixed with the sound of the soldier's horn. The sound slowly echoed away and only the faint bleating of the goats answered.

Jovern was about to blow again when a sound rumbled from within the cave. Sigligons hair stood on end. It was a low grating sound one she almost recognized but she had never quite heard it at this volume. From the depths of the cavern, the rumbling grew louder as the scraping shuffling sound of a large beast made it's a way to the entrance. Once again Sigligons heart was beginning to beat faster, and once again she began to pray.


	3. Chapter Three - Old One -

Sigligon began to pray to both the old gods and the new, all she knew is something large and threatening was going to come out of that cave. Hands set upon both her shoulders they are large and comforting. She opened her eyes and craned her neck upwards to see her father standing behind her. He was looking straight ahead. "Look Sigi," he said excitedly nodding his head towards the cave. Sigligon followed her fathers line of sight to the dark entrance of the cave. Whatever was in there had not yet made it to the entrance. The deep grumbling within the cave resided and she recognized a lighter 'chuffing' sound could be heard. Jovern exclaimed "Ah, she has eaten! from over her shoulder.

Removing his hands from her shoulder he stepped in front of them he continued talking out loud to himself "That is good, I was worried she had not." Siglgion saw him reach for the whistle once more, He then began to make the same noises back using the whistle. After a few back and forth noises from Jovern to what lies within the cave, Sigligon realized He was communicating with it. But that was his Dragon whistle, something he used to train the hatchlings, surely that couldn't be a hatchling making that noise? Not even a fledging could emit such power.

With a few more thumps a figure emerged out from the darkness of the cave. At first, to Sigligon's eyes, it looked like a cloud of mist or dust, but as it moved into the light she could see that it was not so, but it was something more, something of flesh and bone, something of scales and fangs and massive folded wings that grappled across the ground.

It was of a white color, looking to Siglgion almost like a spirit or a ghost. She could tell even from this distance that age was upon this creature. It's large staggering steps as it swung that long thickly muscled neck that held an equally large skull. A skull that had a set of massive horns spiraling backward, along with a mouth full of several sets of fangs. A tongue was set near the opening of the mouth, it prodded the air testing it, gathering the scents of what was around it.

It walked calmly closer, the nearer it got, the more it seemed to grow. The three of them could easily sit upon its massive head. Despite the size and the power it held, Sigligon upon meeting its gaze with its Icy blue eyes could not sense any hostility. It seemed to walk like that of old loyal guard dog meeting its master.

The thing within the cave was a DRAGON, not a hatchling or a fledgling or even a drake but a full-grown powerful DRAGON. A living dragon! The types that people read in stories and used to scare the children in King Landing, the ones in all the songs! The ones that every person knew about, adn every person in the world knew they were extinct. Yet by some miracle one existed, how was this possible? Wasn't this what her family had worked for all their lives? Yet here one was? Why didn't the King know? He could have used it!

Confusion and excitement grew hand in hand within Sigligon as she watched the dragon come to a halt before them the tail swinging languidly in the air. It's massive head leaned down towards them. Siglgion stepped back wishing to become invisible. She felt Korb grab unto her, she glanced down at the hand and gave him a comforting squeeze as both of them stood there.

Jovern stepped forward slowly. "Easy girl, easy..." He gently put a hand on the dragon's nostril. A girl? Sigligon thought herself. The dragon sniffed him, an act that caused a force of air that made Jovern step back slightly from the force. "Hows my girl eh?" He said moving towards her eye, he gently ran his hands along her face up over the ridge of her nose and then down to her cheek.

The dragon watched him closely her eyes holding an intelligence as if she knew him and knew what he was saying. She purred lowly, it was an uneven purr but it seemed to Sigligon that was her way of talking to Jovern. Jovern scratched above her eye. "Oh I know girl, I haven't seen you in a moon, we've been busy with a war, and sadly we have lost..." Jovern bowed his head as if realizing for the first time. The dragon made a deeper noise sounding like a whine as if sensing his sadness.

Sigligon remembered from her father's lessons that dragons were highly intelligent and could sense and understand things about us. The impact hit her suddenly all of it, everything she had learned and read it was true, it was one thing to see hatchlings and another to read about dragons but nothing prepared one to see a true dragon like this.

Sigligon studied her closer, her scales were a pale white and looked like a collection of arrowheads and daggers melded together to give the appearance of scale armor. It then hit her why scale armor was called scale armor and she felt like an idiot for a second. Sigligon studied the scales closer they held a luster like that of the inside of a clam, A sheen the seemed to glimmer in the light of dusk. Her claws on the thumb of her wings were very long and sharp and Siglgion imagined the dragon could pierce through a mammoth with claws like that. As the dragon stood there, Siglgion could hear the small popping and creaking sounds of her bones bracing under such weight.

"Not to worry old girl," Jovern said patting her "I will be here now" he assured her patting her all over her massive head. "I will be sure to look after you every day, not just once a month" he continued. Jovern turned and stared up the hill towards the goats before turning back to the dragon. "looks like we have a few goats left he commented off handily. "I'm sure I can get you to eat some stored supplies, at least until I can get some cows."

Sigligon stared at her father a protest was on her lips. _'He wants to stay here? With a dragon? HOW?_ ' Siglgion glanced up the hill towards the house, was that to be home now? It made sense when she thought about it where else would they live? She did have a great uncle across the sea in Essos but there was no way they could go there at this time.

Jovern glanced over to her and Korb. Sigligon followed his line of sight, Korb was frozen in fear his eyes wide bulging out of their sockets while his mouth hung open slack-jawed. Sigligon thought it comical sight for a few seconds but realized how much this was to take in especially for Korb although she grew up around dragons this was an entirely different matter. So she understood his disbelief for she too was very taken aback but decided she would have to adjust as best as she could.

Jovern glanced to the dragon than to them. The dragon had spotted the two children and began to move her head closer. "Stay still" Sigligon whispered to Korb through clenched teeth. The dragon took a sniff at them, she felt the wind enter and leave the dragon as it did so creating a strong breeze of wind that Sigligon had to brace against. After regaining her footing she whispered to Korb "Dragons identify through smell, much like horses, that's why when we hatch a hatchling we allow them to sniff out hands." She then reached her hand out towards the dragon.

Korb gulped his eyes still wide but he licked his lips and nodded. Sigligon slowly reached her hand forward so that the dragon could identify her. She spoke quietly and calmly. She could see her father studying every move each of them made, she knew that her father was worried but also knew that this needed to be done. The dragon sniffed at her hand. The dragon's breath was warm as it flowed across her skin. Sigligon spoke to her, her tone easy "My name is Sigligon, I do not mean harm to you, I am Jovern's daughter." Her and the dragon's eyes met each other the eyes were as big as her fathers head, the slitted pupil expanded and a sense of knowing filled Sigligon, she knew that the dragon had accepted her for the most part.

Glancing back to Korb she could see he was visibly shaking his arms glued to his sides. Sigligon gently and slowly eased her hand down and grabbed his. It was warm and sweaty from the fear. She lifted it up towards the nose of the dragon. Briefly, Korb pulled back but then he stopped fighting and relaxed trusting Siglgion. The dragon sniffed it twice. Korb not knowing what else to do spoke, surprisingly he managed to do so without a stutter. "I am Korb, I mean no harm, please don't hurt me."

The dragon chuffed at this as if laughing before it turned it's head back to Jovern. Jovern was beaming at the both of them, pride in his eyes. He patted the neck of the dragon. "This here is Old One, her true name is Timpamēre but now it's just Old One." He said introducing the dragon.

"But...how?" Korb asked Jovern waved the question off. "I will explain later, as long as she accepts you she shouldn't harm you, for now" he said reassuringly. Jovern patted her on the neck as he studied her over his eyes glimmering with pride. "She does not have the spirit of a fighting dragon any longer, her years here have mellowed her out greatly." Jovern gave her a final pat on the neck then said "Henujagon" which Sigligon recognized as 'leave' in Valyrian. Old One nodded slightly then turned away. Jovern stepped away, the three of them watched as the great dragon returned back to her cave.

They watched as her figure disappeared into the darkness of the cave. Night had begun to settle; the sounds of crickets and night insects could be heard all around. The moon and stars above cast down enough light to guide their way to the house. Walking their way up the path and through the goats, Sigligon took an opportunity to pet one of the young kids before staggering after her father. The day had been long and tiring she was starving for both food and drink but the longing for sleep out beat them both.

After what to her seemed an eternity they made their way up the dirt path to the door of the house. Jovern opened the heavy metal door with a grunt, it swung inwards and they all stepped inside, simultaneously a large sigh was emitted from all of them. The house was completely dark but despite the dark, Sigligon could make out some of her surroundings. On the far side of the room was a large stone fireplace, the walls, and floor of the house were also of stone, the only thing wooden was the rafters in the ceiling the frames of the windows and the support beams.

There was a small window that faced out towards the ocean, next to it was a heavy looking oak table with four chairs. With great relief, she stepped forward and carefully set her bags on the table. Both she and Korb took the liberty to sit in the chairs. Jovern too set his bags on the table even the one with the hatchlings in it. He crossed the room in silence as began to move wood that was against the wall to the left of the fireplace into the hearth.

Sigligon heard the sound of flint and steal followed by the sound of crackling she could see very small embers of a flame beginning to grow. It seemed magical to her how just a simple fire could change the atmosphere. What was once a strange, cold and dark place now felt welcoming and safe to her? Jovern piled a few more logs to the fire then turned to sigh as he too plopped himself in the chair beside Korb opposite of her.

With the crackling of the fire filling the silence Sigligon felt the warmth begin to spread through the air, carrying with it the faint smell of smoke, salt air, resin, and leather. Sigligon checked out more of their surroundings now that she had a light source she could see more. The light cast dancing shadows across the room to the far corner to her left she saw a small kitchen area stocked with pots and kettles, shelves for food storage and a place to wash hands and food, there was even a small cutting table with a few dull knives hanging next to it.

Next to the kitchen was what would be considered a pantry, dry leaves, jars of pickling and preserved foods sat nestled on several shelves, she also noted there was an upraised portion of the floor which could only mean that there was some type of basement cellar for storing meats and other foods as well. Her eyes scanned back over towards the fireplace again, the other wall that did not have the firewood had a large bookshelf. She wondered to herself if this bookshelf also had a secret room behind it. Next, to the bookshelf, she saw a set of stairs leading up to the second level.

"For tonight" Jovern started. His sudden sound made her startle as she wearily looked to him. He looked exhausted far more exhausted than she had ever seen him. "Tonight let us sleep down here." Sigligon nodded he didn't have to tell her twice. Korb instantly stood up and walked over to the fireplace he then proceeded to collapsed unto the floor in front of it cradling his head in his hands as he positioned himself to sleep, which he did so instantly.

Despite his weariness Jovern chuckled and stood up, he walked over the pantry area glancing around for a few moments he pulled out a trunk away from the wall. Opening it, he fished out a few blankets, filling his arms he walked over and plopped them on the ground in a heap. Taking one he shook it out before resting it over Korb's form who snored loudly. Sigligon glanced longingly at the blankets but before she stood to get one herself she noticed the hatchling bag move. Surprisingly alert she motioned to Jovern. He strode over a worried look on his face. "I can honestly say I forgot about them, help me with them Sigi" She nodded and kneeled up on the chair.

Jovern opened the bag carefully so as to not startle or hurt the hatchlings. Opening the mouth of the bag as wide as it could go a tiny head popped up. It was so small it was about the size of a plum or pear with tiny glistening eyes that blinked several times at them. This hatchling was of a deep red almost like a ruby glistening from within the sack, with a light colored trim of gold to its scales. Making it in at least in Sigligons eyes as one of the most beautiful colors she had seen.

The hatchling looked tired and lethargic however Jovern took a finger and felt along its neck. Suddenly another head popped up this one had a dark blue body like that of the ocean with fading white to the edge of its scales, its eyes were a pale blue that stuck out to Sigligon compared to the red one's eyes who shone a deep crimson.

The hatchlings began to nip at each other playfully making small chirps. Jovern helped shift them out of the bag. The hatchlings seemed very content to sit on the table and sniff around. Jovern reached and began to slowly prod the last hatchling out of the bag cautiously a small nose poked out from the rim.

Sigligon chuckled as the very light colored hatchling moved it's way outwards. A gasp was emitted from her father and he grew very excited as the whole hatchling emerged. "Look at this Sigi!" he whispered excitedly. Sigligon glanced at him in confusion. To her, it was like the other two hatchlings, no bigger than a cat, two clumsy wings and tails that smacked into everything although this one's color was of very light lilac, so light in fact it could pass for white to the unnoticing eye. The eyes of this hatchling were pure and light silver. "Look at its crest on its neck," he said pointing to it. "Females crests will be a lot taller and thicker than males, they also will have a smaller chest, but the larger belly and their tails will grow out longer and smoother than males."

Sigligon was impressed her father could see all that in a glance, she could see now what he was talking about but to be able to notice those features right away was impressive and showed how skilled he was in his craft.

The three hatchlings scampered and sniffed around the desk staying close to one another. "Will they be okay?" she asked Jovern looking up to him. Jovern pursed his lips. "We will make sure that these dragons survive, these dragons are the last hope for the return of the species."Sigligon glanced out the window. "What of Old One?" Jovern shook his head. "She is quite old, although dragons do live very long lifetimes she cannot live forever we need young ones to survive and thrive, and now we have that chance."

Jovern turned to his bags and dug around before he found what he wanted. A small package that was unveiled to be a hunk of cooked venison. He took it to the fire and briefly held it to the flames using a pair of metal tongs that was next to it. Taking care to step over Korb he walked back over with the charred piece of meat. The hatchlings turned to him attentively, their instinct telling them food was near. He pulled off small chunks and one by one he began to feed them.

Greedily they gulped down the chunks he fed them he cooed to them in a way a mother dragon would. Sigligon picked a piece off of the cut he held. She nibbled it than tore the rest to feed to the red hatchling. The hatchling ate it than sniffed at her curiously. She did her best impersonation of her father's coo. The hatchling looked up at her then to her hand before it nuzzled at it with his nose.

"Very good" Jovern said he grinned at her and squeezed her shoulder. Together they finished feeding the famished dragons before finishing off the last of the venison for themselves. Sigligon after eating instantly longed for sleep.

Quickly, she grabbed a blanket and curled up next to Korb, with a single yawn she closed her eyes and sleep took her instantly.


	4. Chapter Four -New Beginnings-

The sounds of shrieks and chirps woke Sigligon up in the morning. She opened her eyes slowly, easing her way up stretching as she yawned. Her body was so sore from sleeping on a stone floor but the blankets around her kept her warm and cozy, the fire next to her crackled and sparks occasionally ascended from the flames.

She turned her head to see Jovern with the dragons on the table, the three of them stood looking at him curiously before he gingerly put a piece of meat in front of them, one moved for the tidbit. Jovern made a noise from his throat sounding like a mix of a grunt and a trill and the dragon paused, holding for a few seconds Jovern then gave a soft grunt and the dragon slowly took the meat from Joverns fingers.

Sigligon sat and watched him for a while, she remained silent studying how her father so easily was able to communicate with them, he looked so proud and so happy sitting at a table with three young dragons in front of him. _'This is the first time he is able to train how he wants to, no orders or rules from the King to follow now.'_  She thought to herself. Jovern looked up from his work then turned his head their eyes meeting He beamed and motioned her over. She stood quickly and dashed over to his side.

"Sigligon my dear, tell me, how old are you?" he asked putting his attention back onto the dragons who sat staring up at the both of them. She tilted her head confused. "Father you know I am 7." Jovern met her gaze once more and gave her a grin a bright twinkle in his eye. "Of course, of course, I know, how could I not?" Sigligon glanced at the red dragon she very much loved the way he looked this morning like a bright red sunrise with tints of gold running through him. "I have taught you many things haven't I?" Jovern asked bringing back her attention.

Sigligon nodded "You have father, you have taught me so much of our family's history and out duties to the Targaryen's and the dragons." She beamed at him proudly. "and all that includes what?" he questioned her a twinkle still in his eye. Sigligon grinned up at him and put her hands behind her back "I can translate Valyrian just like you, father, as well as know the many properties of dragons and their uses."

Jovern nodded and patted her head. "That I have, most men wouldn't teach their daughters such things you know? Most would teach them to sew finery and arrange flowers, how to dress for balls and so forth." He said shaking his head. "But I can sew and cook as well!" She interjected pouting as she did. Jovern chuckled. "Yes, yes you can quite well I should say." He said patting her head "Not to mention sewing leather which takes a fine skill and strong fingers." He scratched his beard as he measured her from where he sat. "I was surprised when I found you had picked it up, as for the cooking I suppose it's because Gauld the cook gave you many sweets didn't she?" he bemusedly added.

Sigligon smiled at the memory of Gauld she was like a mother figure in a way. She never knew her mother, she only knew she was a noble and she died in child-bed. Father would grow very sad and eventually angry if she broached the subject too much so she learned to not ask.

Gauld did not know who her mother was, and if anyone knew no one would tell her. Gauld still loved her all the same, blood or no blood. She remembered the savory mince pies Gauld would make on cold days, or sweet honey cakes for dessert (sometimes before supper too) Gauld showed her how to chop vegetables, to measure out her ingredients by the eye, as well as how to tell when meat was cooked through and to always butter the pan before baking.

Fond memories of Gauld soon turned into sorrow as she realized the large doughy face of the cook, with her soft blue eyes and thinning mousey brown hair was most likely gone now, either killed or fled. Tears began to blur her vision as a soft sob broke from her. Jovern immediately grabbed her and brought her into a tight hug and shushed her. "It's okay Sigi, it's okay." He spoke softly as he attempted to calm her. Sigligon shook her head and lifted it away from his chest. "But it's not! Gauld could be dead! along with Sir Colin! and...and what of master Teagin!" she exclaimed each of their faces forming fresh in her mind.

Sir Colin was an on-duty guard, he never had much work for him so he spent his days being the handyman and caretaker vs more of a guard. He was about as old as Jovern maybe more and always loved to whistle as he worked, he would look after Sigligon when she played outside and he taught her a few songs although he could not sing very well he did his best for her. Master Teagin was their supplies deliver, whatever Father needed that wasn't for the dragons or for their archives Teagin delivered. He was a portly man who very much tried to hide his balding head with large hats and wigs, he was of High Noble birth so he had many rings on his fingers that he would always play with when he was not busy.

Teagin was kind-hearted but a very shrewd businessman as Jovern would put it. Though he too had a soft spot for her giving her small trinkets and toys in exchange for a pastry she helped make or a small kiss on the cheek. Thinking back now most all the workers at the Hatchery adored her, now all the pleasant faces and memories of her life were just that, a memory. Her life would no longer be the same it was ruined, set aflame and now lay as ash on the ground.

"It's hard now, Sigi I know how hard it is, but we have to keep going on, Gauld and the others I sent off when I knew the battle was turning, they are alive out there, I know it," Jovern assured her his voice full of promise. Sigligons spirits rose at the thought that maybe the ones she cared for and loved were still alive. But thinking back to the day before and the events that transpired she could recall hearing the sounds of men fighting at the door. "I heard fighting through"

Jovern had a grim look to his face he looked down then back to her. "Sir Colin refused to run, he wanted to give us time, it was his duty he said, his honor demanded it." She looked at her fathers face studying it for lies, Jovern was speaking the truth and by the looks of the grimaced and pained expression, he wore she knew that Sir Colin did not survive. Hot tears fell down her face but she nodded and wept silently.

Jovern set her down on a chair and stood kissing her forehead. "We will pray for him and his family, his spirit will be happy knowing we made it, especially you." Sigligon nodded and glanced to the three dragons, they had decided to lay for a nap while she and Jovern talked. "They have been fed, they will sleep now for a while, time to feed you as well," Jovern said setting her back down, he then scanned the room and looked to Korbs still sleeping on the ground. Jovern despite his grief gave the smallest smile before calling out "Korb, my boy are you going to sleep through the day as well?"

Korb bolted up looking around with a mixture of confusion and surprise before sighing and dropping his head. "So it was real," he muttered and turned to them. Korb through sleep filled eyes blinked a few times "Why are you crying?" Korb asked when he saw her, concern was lighting his features.

Sigligon shook her head, her father was right they had to keep going and Sir Colin did what he was sworn to do, although it hurt she would mourn for him later. "It is nothing," she replied wiping tears away. Korb stared between her and Jovern for a few moments before standing up with a sigh. "It's a lot to take in isn't it?" Korb said solemnly as he sat across from them he stared intently at the dragons mesmerized by their sleeping forms. Jovern studied Korb, the boy was wiser than most his age.

"I suppose both of you are hungry?" he asked them both. Siglgion nodded finishing up wiping tears from her eyes. Korb's stomach emitted an audible growl. Jovern grunted standing up and walked over to the pantry he picked out some preserved fruits and a few pieces of hardtack jerky, it would have to suffice for now. He gathered some wooden bowls and spoons and brought them over to the table, setting them carefully so as to not wake the dragons he began filling each bowl with a few pieces of preserved peaches, the sweet syrupy smell of them filled the room.

Both children made quick work and dug in greedily to the bowls "What is this place?" Korb asked his cheek full of peach, the sweet and sticky juices dribbled down his mouth. Jovern glanced to the boy and motioned him to wipe his mouth, Korb did so with his sleeve. "This place is called 'the hidden roost' It was made during the reign of Viserys I" he answered as he too sat down to his food. "Why?" Korb asked. Jovern sighed before turning to Sigligon. "Sigligon, do you remember why Aenar Targaryen left Valyria?" he questioned her. She nodded "His daughter, Daenys the Dreamer, had a dream vision that prophesized the Doom."

Jovern nodded than looked to Korb. "This vision ultimately saved the house Targaryen and their dragons, you see Viserys I came into power after his grandfather Jaehaerys I, he had wealth, lots of children and lots of Dragons the most they ever had while living in Westeros, but he had one problem." "What was that?" Korb asked excitedly. "A younger brother," Jovern answered. "This brother with all the fighting and wars that he started marked the beginning of the end, Viserys loved his brother, but he loved his family and of course his dragons more, he could not bear to see the beasts he loved being used to fight one another."

"But the Dance of Dragons happened during Aegon II's reign" Sigligon piped up. Jovern nodded, "True but Legend says that when Viserys was middle-aged he feared for what would happen after his death so much so he called for a witch that came all the way from Volantis to deliver him a concoction that would give him dreams of the future, much like Daenys the dreamer would have been able to do."

Sigligon listened intently as her father spoke, the thought of being able to see the future from a drink fascinated her. "He foresaw the end of the dragons, the end of the dynasty" Jovern paused glancing down to the sleeping hatchlings in front of them. Taking a large bite from his jerky he chewed it thoughtfully before continuing "but he knew of a way to save it, so before Balerion the dread passed away he bred him to a young red dragon, who later on would come to be known as the Red Queen."

Jovern paused once more to chew off a portion of the jerky."From this union, several eggs were laid, dragons lay eggs in clutches you see." he quickly added explaining to Korb to make sure he understood and to make sure he was still listening. The boy had stuffed another peach half into his mouth and gave his best impression of a squirrel before nodding to Jovern. Mentally Jovern noted he would have to teach Korb table manners at some point.

He pushed the thought from the mind and continued with his lesson "Anywhere from 6 to even 12 eggs at a time." he paused for a moment for a swig of water from a nearby cup. Finishing his drink he carried on "Some of the eggs were kept stored away, 'the spark of life' as it is called can be held for over centuries." Korb's jaw dropped effectively spilling peach juices all over the table in front of him. "For Centuries!!! Really?" Korb exclaimed excitedly as he did his best attempt to wipe up some peach juice from his mouth Jovern nodded amusedly.

Carrying on he explained "From this clutch, one white egg was hatched," He said holding up a digit and looked both of them in the eye. He leaned in close "and in a secret ceremony that only the King, a few guards, and a man who was both scholar and trader bore witness to."

"Who was this scholar? Why was he there?" Korb asked excitedly he was enthralled by the story as was Sigligon. Jovern grinned glancing at the both of them "The man was famed for knowing more about dragons than even the Targaryens themselves..." Sigligon glanced to Korb ' _impossible_ ' she thought to herself _'the Targaryens were of Old Valyria themselves there was no way an outsider could know more could they?'_ she thought to herself

Jovern interrupted her train of thought as he continued. "It was said he could read and speak twelve languages many of them dead and that he had studied lost texts of Valyria, needless to say, the King was very interested and wanted his talents working for him."

"Why?" Korb asked again confused. Joven leaned back in his chair and was silent for a moment before continuing. "A dragon fanatic would prove to be the most responsible in protecting this secret dragon and keeping them alive for the future to come, most importantly it would be safe from Deamon and any other cruel Targaryen." It made sense to Sigligon in a way. A true scholar and supporter would stay true to their subject of fascination no matter what. "The white egg that was hatched, it was Old One wasn't it?" she asked Jovern who grinned satisfactorily "My smart girl, yes! Timpamēre-Old One- is that white egg hatched all those years ago." he beamed proudly at Sigligon.

"So! So! that means she's the daughter of Balerion the Black Dread right?" Siglgion all but shouted in her excitement. Jovern put a finger to his lips and motioned to the dragons still sleeping. Jovern glanced out the window looking for Old One but did not spot her.

"I'm confused father," Sigligon said catching Jovern's attention who turned to his daughter to see her brow furrowing in concentration. "What is it?" he asked She bit off a piece of jerky and munched on it for a few seconds. "I read a few weeks ago that dragons can change gender? That they are not true male or female."

Jovern mulled it about in his head for a few moments before finally answering. With a heavy sigh, he leaned forward. "That is both correct and incorrect, the man who claimed this only had a few study samples, its also a matter of translation issues, but if it is true it must be a rare occurrence and can only be triggered by certain environmental factors, but in all my years I have yet to see a dragon change gender."

Sigligon nodded "I see," she said finishing up her food. She studied the Dragons that were asleep in front of her. Looking like a pile of precious stones. There was a silence before Jovern spoke out loud. "We will stay and live here, it is our duty, the King sent Rhaella and Prince Viserys away to Dragonstone as I heard just a week or so ago they should be safe when they return we will pledge our service to them and continue our work, both the dragons and the Royal family need us now more than ever."

Korb glanced around the place he looked outside before piping up "Well, what will we do for now?" Jovern snorted "Good question my boy, very good question indeed."


	5. Chapter Five -Our Home-

The next few days Sigligon barely remembered, it was a blur of constant work. Cleaning the upstairs rooms, preparing the beds-which were made from not straw as she expected but soft linen stuffed with actual feathers, which she was happy to lay on of course once they and the blankets had been washed and hemmed. Along with scrubbing the floors and dusting, and finally helping her father catalog all their supplies.

Their new home was well stocked and supplied with plenty of preserved food and goods to last a winter or two before needing replenishing. Giant racks of smoked meats were wrapped and saved in the cellar, barrels of preserved fish, casks of ale and fresh water, shelves and shelves of pickled vegetables. In one area was bags of flour, millet, dried lentils, along with yeast, sugar, and other baking foods. There was a small chest that held several bags of gold and a few pieces of jewelry, which upon finding it Sigligon was amazed by.

After discovering the chest in the cellar Jovern quickly closed and hid the chest back on the shelf before turning to her. "These were left here in case a member of the royal family needed a place to hide, this entire place was meant for housing and keeping one of them safe, that is why all the food, supplies and of course the gold," he explained to her.

"What shall we do father?" Sigligon asked him motioning towards the gold. "We will use as little as we can, we must come up with a way of making a means for ourselves, we will be here for quite some time," he replied tugging at his beard.

"How long?" she asked as the both of them began to head back up towards the steps that lead down into the cellar. Jovern carried a lantern close and remained silent. He ascended the steps while blowing out the lantern, she followed close behind waiting for his reply. Jovern closed the cellar door then hung the lantern back on the hook on the wall next to him. Sigligon glanced over into the living space and saw Korb playing with the dragons, he had a small strip of leather with which he used to play tug of war with them.

Sigligon laughed, it had escaped her so suddenly she almost forgot what laughter felt like. During the last few days, they had concentrated on just surviving that she never had a moment to enjoy in its humor, but now she did so. She grinned as she watched Korb the boy that had been a newly recruited apprentice had now learned to understand the dragons greatly. He was beginning to become like her and Jovern, a student of dragons and their history. Secretly Sigligon was glad, she had always wanted someone her age to play and learn things with, in a way she could see Korb being this and possible being something better, a brother, one that she had always wanted.

Korb played with the dragons, but to them, it wasn't just playing, this was a teaching moment. Dragons like other creatures in the world are taught the ways of their kind through interactions with others even though they very much acted and played like kittens or puppies, chasing and exploring every little thing. They were actually learning all thanks to the three of them, although admittedly it was mostly Jovern.

The most important lesson that was taught first was to respect human hands and fingers, as well as to wait patiently for food and for the most part, were respectful of things, but young dragons will be dragons. Sigligon admittedly had found herself favoriting the red one, he shined and gleamed so beautifully in the sunlight she could watch him scamper around and flap his wings all day. To her, at times it felt like he could understand her in a way the others did not. The history books and Jovern were right, there was an intelligence in those eyes, even at a young age it felt like her and the red one could communicate with one another more so than the other two although all three of the dragons were special to her, the red one was more so.

Jovern chuckled and glanced to Sigligon, remembering she had asked him a question she repeated it. "How long can we live here Father?" she asked once more. Jovern tilted his head and pursed his lips before simply shrugging and saying: "We will stay as long as we need" he said firmly nodding his head agreeing with his own statement. Jovern looked down at her and placed a hand on her head as he continued "tomorrow I shall go to Kings Landing, see if I can get any info, as well as retrieve items from the hatchery" he paused for a moment ruffling her hair, "As well as picking up some needed supplies, perhaps a new toy for my brave little one?." he asked glancing down at her pondering.

Sigligon thought for a moment before shaking her head. "I do not need a new toy father, I am much too old I think, get things that we need for the dragons and for us to live here...maybe some apple seeds, so that we can plant them and grow bunches of apples!" She added excitedly. Jumping from foot to foot. Jovern laughed deeply his voice echoing off the walls before he nodded "Very well apple seeds it will be!" he announced before he removed his hand from her head and crossed the room to check on Korb and the dragons.

Siglgion walked over to the fireplace and began to read a book on Aegon the Conqueror, after some time as she lay on the ground, arms propping her head as her legs swung in rhythm behind her Korb walked over and lay on the opposite side of the book, staring at the words that were upside down. Sigligon met his pale blue eyes, his face was flustered from play and his dark blonde curls were plastered to his forehead.

Sigligon smiled at him and welcomed him to read the book with her. She did not know much of Korb only that he was a bastard from the Westerlands for Hill was the name of bastards given there. He told her that he was found at the gate of Lord Tywin Lannister's keep, which by Westerosi law, the acting Lord had to find a place for him within its walls.

So he was given to the stable master to be an eventual stable hand which was where he had lived until Jovern who had come off a ship in Lannisport saw him. Jovern had told them both that the reason he took Korb in was he saw how well a boy of his age and stature did with the large war horses in the stables that Jovern decided Korb could make a potential good recruit, after talking with the Stablemaster who was glad to be rid of Korb (Sigligon later learned that bastards were frowned upon in most areas as well as the Stablemaster had several sons and no time or place for said bastard) Jovern traveled back home with his new collection of texts and Korb sitting beside him in the cart.

Distracted suddenly by Korb who was giggling as two dragons, the red and the blue suddenly pounced upon the book she read. Sigligon quickly snatched the book up so that it did not get harmed by the tiny dragon claws. Sigligon now sitting up and placing the book above her on the nearby bookshelf noticed the pale female sat nearby cleaning her wings. Sigligon slid herself across the floor to be nearer to her and sat next to her before reaching a handout and gently stroking her neck. The young dragon churred and nuzzled her hand before climbing up into Siglgion lap.

Sigligon felt a warmness instantly begin to emanate from the dragon she studied the female closely. They dragons had only grown slightly since hatchling but she knew soon enough their growth would increase greatly, by the end of the year they could be as big as pony's if they were looked after properly. Sigligon scratched beneath the dragons chin and smiled to herself. Korb let the two males continue their chase with one another and he plopped down beside her.

Both watched as the red and blue dragons chased each other around. Jumping and leaping at one another, grabbing each other's tails and wings or squawking at once another. Korb shook his head "I can't believe all that is happening, it's so surreal sometimes like it's not real life but some story made up into a book." he commented motioning towards a few books on the shelf.

Sigligon nodded allowing the female dragon to leave her lap and run after her nest mates. Sigligon turned to Korb "I know what you mean, I have read many books like that, books where a princess will kiss a frog and it turns into a prince or ones where an enchanted flower casts a spell on a whole castle!" she said excitedly, she secretly liked books like that, they were fun and she would always imagine herself in them somehow.

Korb shook his head blanching "Blech, that is girly book stuff!" he said wrinkling his nose. Sigligon felt her ears burn in embarrassment. "Well," she said lifting her head up. "What do you like to read then?" she asked hoping that it was something that she could easily pick apart. It angered her slightly having someone question her tastes in books.

Korb looked away sheepishly. He shrugged. "Eh, nothing much didn't really have the time for all that in the stables, there was always work to be done, horses to brush, stalls to be mucked." Korb tugged at a leather lace on his shoe, trying his best to avoid the question Sigligon was quiet as she studied Korb's face and reaction, she knew that couldn't be the whole truth, surely he had to have read or liked something, why else make such a statement then not have anything reply with? then the realization hit her.

"Korb?" She asked shyly turning her head to catch his eye Korb lifted his gaze while scratching his head. "Are you able to read?" she asked. Korb's nostrils flared and for a moment she thought he was going to yell at her or hit her but he didn't. "I'm not judging you or calling you an idiot if you can't, I am just curious," she said as genuine as she could Korb huffed and looked down his face twisted in both embarrassment and anger.

Sigligon bit her lip. "I mean no offense, truly I don't...but if you wanted I could help you?" Korb glanced at her. visibly confused. "Why would you help me to read? Don't you think it's wasted on someone of my birth?" Sigligon shook her head vigorously she glanced over at Jovern. Jovern did not say anything he only monitored the conversation. But he did give her a small nod as if to say 'go on' "Knowledge is for anyone who is willing to have it." she stated a large smile on her face. Jovern had told that to her many times and felt it fit best in this situation.

Disbelief filled Korb's eyes but she could also see the slight glimmer of hope. "You won't laugh at me?" he asked half surprised and half confused. "No," she said continuing to smile. "Of course not, why would I laugh?" she reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I really want to help you with this if you would allow me."

Korb shrugged "I would, but I don't know...People will still say it's wasted on Bastard's like me." Sigligon rolled her eyes. "Some people are stupid" she stated firmly. "I don't believe that all." she said shaking her head saying "so what? You are still Korb and I think you are perfectly rightful to learn and capable."

Korb studied her, his eyes searching for any sign of trickery or falsehood. He smiled softly "You and your dad are so alike, you accept people, not just nobles but commoners too." Sigligon gave Korb a small grin and glanced to Jovern he gave her a nod and a grin he then began to organize some books onto the bookcase next to the fire.

Jovern spoke to them, his back still turned away "My family was not always a noble one, and even now I do not consider ourselves to be." The both of them looked to him as he shuffled around between his bags and the bookcase.

"Consider this," he said while glancing at the cover of a book to then scan for where to place it. "We do not hold any lands, we have no great castle or house and for the most part we are a small family." Sigligon nodded, her grandfather and grandmother both had died of sickness, father was an only child, she was an only child, her mothers family were not spoken of. "You do have some relatives though," Sigligon said remembering that her father had several uncles and cousins.

Jovern turned to her. "Ah" he grunted while dusting off his hands. "True my grandfather had many children, four sons, and three daughters. Two boys served in the royal army, while my father followed his fathers work of course" he explained motioning towards the dragons now asleep in a pile of wings and tails on the floor. "My aunts all married into rich houses and barely spoke to us again, my final uncle however still serves the family, he is the man I meet across the sea" Jovern continued pointing out the window towards the very sea he mentioned, although one could not see it due to the natural wall of rock, you could still smell it and hear it.

"We always meet up together to do trade expeditions, and discuss business so, in a way he still follows in the family work, only doing it across the sea, his children-my cousins also help from time to time," he added before he plopped down in a chair at the table. Sigligon noticed he had a small thin book in his hands. "What is that father?" she asked jumping up next to him. "It is for you," he said handing it to her. She took the book excitedly before having the excitement collapse immediately.

The small brown book was a well-used one and a book Sigligon remembered well, it was her first Grammer book. She thumbed through the creased pages, they were well oiled from use. "This is my grammar book?" she asked confused.

He gave her his usual trickster grin "It is, I knew we would be needing it, I was originally going to teach Korb to read but since you insisted I thought you had better, a promise is a promise Sigligon, never forget that." he said looking sternly into her eyes She met his intense gaze studying it. She knew it was of importance when he used her full name like that.

"A promise is like an oath." she whispered quietly "That is correct," Jovern said sternly. "Never forget your promises or oaths, you must always do your best to upkeep them, it is not blood, nor gold that keeps a house noble, but their ability to follow and keep the oaths they have promised." Korb suddenly interjected into the conversation. "The Lannisters always had a bunch of gold, they would hand it out like it were candy to everyone, they would say 'A Lannister always pays his debts'"

Jovern turned to Korb and nodded. "It is said that isn't it? but their true motto is 'Hear me roar'" Jovern quipped leaning back comfortably before continuing "but what do they have to roar about, eh? they have no need to roar they just flash a bag of gold and everything works out in the end for them." Jovern said bitterly waving his hand.

Siglgion piped out "I liked the Starks saying, 'Winter is coming'" she said in her best Northern accent. Jovern chuckled at this. "That is because Gauld was from the north, she told you stories about the direwolves and giants didn't she?" he prodded Sigligon nodded enthusiastically she placed the book down as she did. Korb reached up and grabbed it and began to examine it, opening and flipping through the pages with some interest but mostly confusion. "So with this, I will learn how to read?" Jovern shook his head "No, not with just this, but with patience and practice yes." Siglgion cringed the two dreaded P's Sigligon thought thinking back to how many times her father had said the very same thing to her.

"What is your saying?" Korb asked as he flipped through the pages some more. "Pardon?" Jovern asked confused. "You are a noble house? Do you have a saying? A motto?" Jovern paused for a moment before nodding slowly "Yes, it is 'Īlon dohaeragon zaldrīzoti" Jovern spoke in a rich Valyrian accent. Korb was taken aback by the sudden use of Valyrian, to the untrained ear it was an intimidating language, but Sigligon had learned enough by now where she found it to be a soothing and gentle language, it felt almost natural to her in a way but then again her father made sure of that even now as she was learning it.

"W-what?" Korb asked utterly befuddled. "We serve Dragons" Sigligon translated for him beaming. " _THAT_  is your motto?" He exclaimed his voice rising sharply surprised written over his face. "What?" she asked, confused "what's wrong with it?" she demanded. Korb shrugged, it seems kinda boring, considering-" "Considering the fact that we study, breed, and caretake dragons, the mythical beasts that people think are extinct?" Jovern said questioningly. "Not to mention translate Valyrian texts and recreate their inventions when possible? he added slyly, his eyes burning into Korbs who shrank under his gaze.

Korb was silent for a few moments as both Jovern and Sigligon waited for his reply. "When you put it that way...I am sorry I meant no offense Jovern." Joverns eyes and posture softened and he gave a quick grin to the boy before standing up suddenly.

"I am heading to bed early for my business in Kings Landing tomorrow." Sigligon bowed her head understanding. "Father if I don't see you in the morning please be careful," she said getting up and giving him a hug goodnight. He kissed her cheek and ruffled her hair. "Not to worry Sigi, I will be on my guard." he stood and began to gather supplies for his trip in the morning.

When everything was ready he turned to them. "While I am gone tomorrow stay inside and keep the fire going, also remember to feed the dragons every few hours, do not let them get into trouble." Sigligon nodded as her father brought her into a deep hug, suddenly Korb found himself receiving a hug as well. A fact that startled him, Sigligon noted that Korb seemed to not be accustomed to having affection given to him but he was adjusting well to this new found attention.

Sigligon watched her father head upstairs with a final goodnight. She stood sighing and walked over to the window gazing out at the cliffs to spot Old One roosting on top of a flat cliff that Sigligon had surmised was most likely Old One's favorite spot, it was the area of the wall that as covered in scratch marks from where she would hoist herself upwards onto the rock to sunbathe.

The dragon lived a peaceful life from what Sigligon could tell, between sleeping in the sun and sleeping in the cave she only flew in small circles around the area before deciding to bathe in the little area of water and beach that they had.

Sigligon turned away from the window and surveyed the room, everything, for the most part, was organized and cleaned the placed now had a welcoming and relaxed aura to it, as if it was where they were meant to be. She glanced to the dragons now awake once more leaping and jumping about on the floor she smiled, perhaps this was meant to be. She could only guess at this point but she felt a belonging here and knew that together the three of them would see this through. She sat at the table before turning to Korb who was chasing after the blue dragon.

"Korb," she said sternly. Korb looked up to her. She lifted the Grammer book then tilted her head to the seat next to her Korb gulped than nodded. He sat down next to her, wordlessly she opened the book and pointed at the first letter "This is called a letter..." and so began Korb's first lesson of reading, and so began their life in their new abode.


	6. Chapter Six -Naming-

 

All that night until they slept and all of the next morning and afternoon of the next day after saying their goodbye's to Jovern, of course, Korb practiced reading and Siglgion instructed. Korb eventually was able to identify most of the common letters of the alphabet. It was nighttime when their all-day study session was finished. Throughout the day they had eaten jerky and took turns feeding the dragons. Sigligon gave the last piece to the female before sighing "I think that will be enough learning for today" she said leaning back in her chair.

Korb gave a great sigh of relief he had a thin layer of sweat on his brow from the concentration of this session. "I can't believe you know all of them and others from a different language." He said to her stretching. She smirked "Not all of the Valyrian letters I know, some have been lost to time." Korb glanced to the blue dragon sitting at the edge of the table. He grinned and gently stroked its head and neck. "I like this one, it reminds me of the sea, what would the Valyrian word for sea be?" he asked her curious.

She tilted her head and thought of it.  'Embar' came to mind. "Embar I believe it's called," she answered him. Korb shook his head "That doesn't sound like a good name, what about water?" he asked next "iēdar" she answered knitting her brow in concentration as she studied the dragon.

"That's even worse," Korb said leaning forward on his elbows. "Hmm, how about blue?" he asked once more. Sigligon sighed "Kasta, that would be the translation for blue, however, I have an idea, what about 'blue' 'one' which would translate to 'Kastamēre'" she glanced to Korb scanning to see if he approved.

Korb slowly grinned "Kastamēre,"  he said the word rolling slowly off his tongue. "Yes," he said nodding excitedly "That fits him" he stroked 'Kastamēre' and began to say the name over and over to the blue dragon. The dragon tilted its head at this new word being said as if already understanding that this word was important. Korb glanced to the other two, "What about the red one?" he asked a new found fire filling him.

Sigligon began to scan her mind for Valyrian words to choose for him, he was red like ruby or a garnet but also had a tinge of gold to him, the eyes amber she didn't need to name him for his color but it felt fitting to do so. "'Red One' would translate to 'Melemēre' but that does not fit him," she said out loud. Studying the dragon further she closed her eyes. He was a red and gold, these were the colors of royalty, he held himself higher than his other siblings and seemed to be the largest as well, in a way he was like the leader, ' _or a king_ ' she thought.

A name jumped into her mind. 'Meledārys' she thought it suited the dragon. She smiled softly and lifted the dragon he was still light enough where she could do with little trouble. He sat patiently in her hands his tail swinging down he turned his head and looked directly to her.

"Meledārys" she whispered to him. The dragon's eyes focused on her as she repeated it. "Your name young one, will be Meledārys"  Korb nodded "I like that one as well, what does it mean?" He asked curiously. "It means 'Red King'" she answered setting Meledārys down again. They both turned to the last dragon the female, was grooming herself on the window sill. "She is a rarity, and she is beautiful," Korb said.

Sigligon nodded "Her color is Lilac but I feel because she is a true born female she needs something special." she furrowed her brow as concentrated. "In a way, she's one of the most important, female who are important are like nobles right?" Korb suggested. "But she is not just a noble she is-" Sigligon was cut off as Korb jumped up "She's a Queen!" Sigligon jumped in surprise at this, as did the dragons. "Why not name her after our Queen? Rhealla" Korb said nodding.

Sigligon looked between both of them then after thinking for a few moments she nodded. "Yes, Rhealla is a good name, it fits her." Korb grinned from ear to ear as he relaxed in his chair. His smile faded after a few moments. "I hope she is okay, her and  Prince Viserys, the Usurper wouldn't kill them all would he?" Sigligon shrugged "I do not know, but are safe for now you heard father say."

Korb nodded slowly. "Yes but Rhaegar had two children with that Dornish woman, a Martell I think." Sigligon nodded agreeing with Korb. "Yes he did, I don't think they would kill them, they are so young." Sigligon nodded. "I know what you mean, to think through this entire war everything that happened, all because Rhaegar put the flowers in front of the wrong girl." Korb shook his head. Sigligon sighed "I don't think it was all that simple, but It did start this war, I was sad when I heard he died, killed by the Baratheon."  Sigligon shook her head and pushed the thought from the mind, what's done is done, they could only continue forward.

She remembered seeing the prince once on a celebration of his name day he rode a large white steed through the streets as he played on his instrument and sang to all, woman threw roses and flowers at his feet some threw gold and copper pieces but he never took them he merely smiled and continued to sing, his blonde silver hair gleaming in the sun. "He would have been a great King, he was wise, strong and so kind," she remarked standing up. She went over to the fire and put a few more logs on. "I think I will sleep down here again tonight, it's to empty upstairs." she turned to Korb who nodded.

Yawning he got up and gathered blankets and pillows and made a large 'nest' in front of the fire. Sigligon laughed and joined him. They playfully battered each other with pillows causing loose feathers to fly about, Kastamēre and Meledārys chased them. After a little while, both children lay looking up into the fire watching the flames. Sigligon yawned once more Korb copying her. "Do you know any good stories?" He asked her. She was taken surprise by this she mulled it about.

"Have you ever heard any of Gauld's stories?" She asked him. "The northern cook?" he asked. Sigligon nodded. "Gauld was very kind and a very nice woman, nothing like people say about northerners, and she had many stories about the north some of them about the time before the first men came here." "How could he have stories like that? If there were no men here to tell it?"  Sigligon sighed annoyed. "Do you want to hear the story or not?" She said lifting an eyebrow. Korb sheepishly nodded "Fine, fine go on then."

Sigligon grinned and cleared her throat. "This is the story about the long night..." That night Sigligon and Korb shared stories back and forth, some scary some funny, some true and some make believe but the two children comforted themselves as they sat alone in a stone house hidden away in a dark corner of the world.


	7. Chapter Seven -We Will Live On-

Sigligon woke up the next morning once again to the sound of squaks. She lifted her head up squinting her sleep filled eyes to see the dragons jumping up and down in front of her. The cries were obvious they were hungry. She untangled herself from the blankets her and Korb had fallen asleep on as they talked through the night of giants and direwolves. Siglgion glanced over to Korb who was curled up in a ball in the middle of his 'nest' drooling.

Sigligon scampered up and glanced to the fire that was just barely hanging on. She ran over to it and stroked the few remaining coals to try and save the dying fire. Quickly she gathered kindling and blew on the embers, a small flame began to grow guided by her furtive motions. As the fire grew larger she added more and more wood to the flames until once more a good sized fire burned before her. She sighed relief flooding her momentarily. The dragons were at her heels they had grown slightly since hatching and now were the size of full grown cats.

She danced over the stone floor it was cold beneath her feet as she made her way to the kitchen area, grabbing a larger chunk of meat she carried it back to the fire and began to char it on the flames. Even though it was plain and simple meat the smell filled her nostrils and made her mouth water. What she would give for a right and proper meal, not just a bowl of fruit preserves and hard tack, a nice minced meat pie or a plate of freshly cooked vegetables, baked bread with honey and berries, anything really at this time would be preferable.

She pushed aside the thought of food for the moment and put herself to the task at hand. Hungry dragons pranced at her feet and jumped about she smirked at their antics and kept them from jumping up into the flames. When the meat was cooked just right she pulled it away and took it over to the table, she set it down and began to crave into it shredding it into smaller pieces. She first turned to Rhealla "Rhealla" she said holding the piece of meat to the female.

The female went to snap it away but Sigligon made a low grunt of warning the dragons were to grab food gently and nicely as they had been taught by Jovern, Sigligon made sure to enforce this. Rhealla slowly took the meat from her hand Sigligon chuffed at her to show she was pleased. The meat disappeared in two bites. She moved onto Meledārys next. Meledārys took the meat easily enough and so did Kastamēre one by one she fed the dragons, gently reminding them when they needed to be better at taking from her hand.

Once the dragons had taken their fill they moved off to curl up in her old bedding. She grinned to herself she had accomplished a task that those in her family set out to do, she took care of the dragons, she served them she was a true Dilis just now, and it filled her with new resolve. She began to plan for what next to do, an idea sprung to her mind. She wanted to do something special for when her father returned from his trip to Kings Landing, she briefly remembered waking up early this morning to watch him leave before slipping back to sleep. Sigligon quickly set out to gather supplies for what she had in mind.

Meat pasties where a simple food something she could easily make from scratch. She headed to the cellar, she grabbed the lantern off the nail and found the light stick nearby once she had a light to see with she headed down into the cellar's depths now illuminated by light. In the far back it was extremely cold, so cold she could see her own breath. She found a chunk of butter and some frozen milk. She also gathered some flour, sugar, salt along with her vegetables and spices which would be upstairs hanging in the pantry.

She fumbled her way up the steps her arms laden with supplies. She exited the cellar and placed the lamp down and blew it out. She then rushed to drop all her supplies on the counter in the kitchen before her arms gave way from the weight of it all.

She closed the cellar door and grabbed rosemary, and oregano. Returning back into the kitchen she busied herself with preparing the dough. She heated the milk over the fire and softened the butter as well before she let her mind wander as she easily fell into her task, it soothed her to be able to mix and create the dough before beginning to knead and flatten it out, the scent brought memories of Gauld to her mind.

She smiled softly at the thought before having to distract herself with preparing the tray for cooking. Once the dough was flattened out nicely she began the task of cutting it into nice even squares before running to the pantry and grabbing some preserved carrots and potatoes. Quickly she separated the vegetables out unto the dough then took a little more meat from the pantry to cut up into small pieces to place on the pasties as well. All the contents were laid out next was the spices. Grinding up the rosemary and oregano and finishing it off with some salt and pepper.

She closed up the pasties by tucking and folding the corners and sides of the dough and last but not least she cut small slits into the tops of the pasties before placing them on the tray. She carried the tray over to the fire and slide it onto a metal grate she attached to the very top of the flames just licked the bottom of the pan.

She stood back and nodded to herself all that work had made her ravenous so she gave in and grabbed a small jar of preserved apple slices that were sweetened with sugar and cinnamon a rare spice from Essos. She ate greedily as she cleaned up the place. She heard a loud yawn and saw Korb finally waking up. The boy apparently loved to sleep in. He rubbed his eyes and looked about. He turned to see her in the kitchen he gave a small nod in greeting then turned back to the fire.

"Did you make those?" He asked pointing to the pasties in the oven. She nodded "They are not finished yet so don't get any ideas." she gave him a stern warning. Korb scratched the back of his head and slumped over to her. He shook himself. "What I wouldn't give for a bath and a new change of clothes." Sigligon blanched she knew exactly what Korb meant they had been wearing the same clothing for two days now and it had been that long since she had bathed as well.

She sniffed at her hair then shook her head a problem for later. "Well here are some apples," she said pushing the jar to him. Korb dug in absently. "Well, where is Jovern?  Sigligon shrugged from what she could tell it was still mid-morning so he had some time yet. She took some of the leftover milk and poured it into two wooden cups and gave one to Korb. He greedily drank it, once finishing he gave a big sigh of approval as he wiped the milk from his lips.

Sigligon was about to suggest reading practice again when she heard a familiar whistle from outside. In a moments notice, she bounded across the floor in a few steps and opened the door. The sun was beginning to brighten alighting the cove in a lush green glow from all the grass that grew. She could see the ocean sparkling in the distance and taste the tang of the salt air. The odor of sea, goat, and earth mingled in her nostrils as she scanned for her father. Quickly she noticed movement on the far side just near the water.

It was her father, even from this far away she could recognize his stature anywhere. Plus who else could it be? Only he would be able to know of this place. Sigligon put to fingers to her lips and whistled back to him a high shrill answer. Jovern was moving towards them slowly she watched as he made his way. The close he got she realized he was pulling a hand cart behind him. She waited for him at the door as he told her. She jumped up and down excited to see him, it had only been a few hours but to be without him made her uneasy and to see his rugged bearded face made all the bad in the world fade away.

He grinned as he reached the door, he set the cart down and lunged for her taking her up in his big arms he twirled her around. She laughed as the world spun around her the wind blowing her hair all over. Finally, he set her down she stood there dazed as the ground beneath her felt wobbly. Korb came to the door and Jovern brought the boy into a hug. "You two have made it, I knew you could." he said proudly but she could sense he was quite tired.

He sniffed the air deeply. "Is that something baking I smell?" Sigligon nodded and grinned lifting her jaw high. Jovern ruffled her hair then paused studying her for a moment. "Ah" he stated as he picked up her hair that rose in greasy strands "you need to take a bath right away, in fact, we all do," he said looking sternly between them all. He turned and rummaged through one of the many bags in the back of his cart. He pulled out a small package. "For you Sigi," he said. She opened it and recognized her hair wash. Jovern made it special for her, for she loved the sent of Hibiscus for that was the same scent her mother loved as well, one of the few facts she knew about her.

He grabbed the nearest two bags. "Korb help me with these will you?" Korb nodded and the boy went to work, though he was small he was strong from a life growing up mucking out stalls and working with horses. One by one they helped unpack the cart until finally, the only things left were two small seedling plants. "Leave those, I will plant them later," he said waving them off. "What are they?" Sigligon asked.

Jovern grinned from ear to ear his face lighting up in sheer happiness as he bent down to her eye level. "Apple trees, in a few years they will grow some delicious apples for us." Sigligon widened her eyes in surprise and she once again began to jump up and down before leaping up to wrap her arms around her father's thick neck as he spun her in the air. These were the moment she loved most when her father would spin and toss her into the air in excitement and joy. After he let her back down she couldn't help but remembering he had stated that they would grow in a few years... ' _surely we won't be staying that long_?' she thought to herself as she followed him into the house.

When they all were inside Sigligon checked her pasties they looked about done so she removed them from the fire with a folded piece of thick cloth quickly she rushed to the kitchen to set them down to cool. Jovern had sat back in a chair and was drinking from a water skin he had a troubled expression on his face. "What is it, father?" Sigligon asked. "Bad news," he answered gruffly. There was a silence as they both waited for him.

"A you know the King died the day we fled, the day after Prince Rheagar, fell at the Trident, I have now heard that his children Rheanys and Aegon are dead as well as their mother Ellia." Sigligon gasped. Her father slumped forward in his chair a look of defeat washing over him. Briefly the world began to fade away for a few moments as the faces of the royal family flashed through her mind, she had only seen them from afar but she had seen the paintings of them and heard people talk of them, yet still, the idea that _'All of them? Even children? What monster kills children!_ ' she thought to herself angrily.

After some silence, Jovern spoke looking darkly down at the table. "Robert Baratheon is most likely to be King, the Northern houses support him and the Lannisters do as well." Jovern spat bitterly.

 

"The Lannisters gave him support? But they are loyal to House Targaryen!?" Korb exclaimed visibly upset.

 

Jovern shook his head. "The mad king was ruining that relationship every step of the way, but I still can't believe that a Kingsguard-Jaime Lannister himself...Just....does no one have honor?" he said true anger flaring as he slammed his fist at the table making Sigligon tilted her head confused. Jovern stood up and went to the fire stroking his beard as he contemplated. "Jamie Lannister killed the King." there was a moment as Sigligon let that sink in. Nothing was making sense to her she felt dizzy and put a hand to her temple.

 

"I dont....why would?" she began to say before Jovern lifted his hand cutting her off as he shook his head. "No one knows why he bloody did it, all I heard was the moment that Robert and his men entered the throne room they saw a dead king and a Jamie Lannister with a bloody sword." Korb was silent, they all were. Time seemed to pass by slowly as they tried to make sense of it all. "We have hope," Jovern said quietly. Sigligon looked to her father, the way he gazed into the fire his tall stature casting a shadow across the room. "Prince Visarys still lives, as well as Rhealla, there is a rumor as well that she is....with child," he said turning to them.

"Another prince?" Korb asked hope in his voice. "Or a princess" Sigligon added.  "That still leaves only three Targaryan's left," Sigligon said sadly. Jovern shook his head. "That we know of, there was many children and unknown children to many a Targaryen," he said softly hope in his eyes. Korb shook his head "But they would be Bastards with no claim, and I don't think King Robert would Naturalize them." Jovern opened his mouth to speak but seemed to decide against it before glancing to the sleeping dragons. "I fed them," Sigligon said putting her head and shoulders back proudly.

Jovern gave a small grin. "You surprise me more and more." he walked over to her and kissed her on the forehead. "Come let us eat and unpack I will show you all that I have got at Kings Landing." After they had eaten. Sigligon gathered the silverware and placed them in the sink. Her stomach was satisfyingly full and she felt reenergized for the day. She plopped herself on the floor in front of one of the heavy sacks Jovern had brought with him from King Landing.

Jovern who was cleaning out the underside of his nails stopped and stood. Taking a few lumbering steps he kneeled down next to her. He opened the bag and brought out several bolts of different fabric, most of it dark and sturdy. There were a few squares of red along with sewing needles and supplies. Sigligon ran her hand across the fabric as she watched father dig more items from the bag. Packets of seeds, bags of tea, and a few other fresh spices.

The next bag held ink, paper, quills, and leather binders to bind pages too. There was a purse of medicines as well as a book on natural herbs and how to make herbal remedies. There were manuscripts on building multitudes of things. Jovern had bought so many things Sigligon could scarcely imagine they could afford it all. "How did you buy all this?" Sigligon asked. "Some I bought, other things I found," Jovern said without saying more.

Jovern left them for a few moments as Korb and her started to organize and put the thing away. He came back with a large trunk. He set it down carefully. Sigligon could faintly smell smoke coming from the trunk.

Jovern unlatched and pried open the heavy lid. It swung open in a loud thunk. Sigligon studied her fathers face. He scanned the contents of the trunk in a sad and nostalgic way. He sighed and reached a hand in running it across something within the trunk. Sigligon tiptoed closer and peeked from around. The trunk was filled with books and papers of all sorts, many of them covered in ash and debris, a few even had scorch marks. Jovern looked up to Sigligon. "My family's life work, all that is left."

Sigligon could see the pain in Jovern eyes instinctively she wrapped her hands around her father's shoulder and hugged him for all she could. "It's okay father, we will make it, we can do it together." Jovern hugged her back and she heard him speak in his deep voice "That we will Sigi, that we will."


	8. Chapter Eight - Making Home -

From that day onward the weeks and months that passed to Sigligon were a blur. They monitored the feeding and care of the dragons, Jovern was amused with the names that she and Korb had picked. Especially 'Rhealla' for it was a very prominent Targaryen name and befitted the young dragon well.

Jovern slowly began to bring the house together. The first order of business was building pens for the goats. Behind the house, there was a small trail that winded it's way back till it rounded a bend and came to an abrupt stop at the foot of the cliffs. However, this was not all that there was here. A large contraption made of metal, it looked like a massive cage with large steel poles buried into the ground and ran up the face of the cliff, long cables were attached to the tops and bottoms of the cage and as Sigligon came to learn thanks to her father this was called a 'lift' and it was of the same design as the one at The Wall in the very north that was built so many ages ago.

This one, however, was smaller in comparison and after a few days of maintenance and testing, Jovern allowed them to take the lift all the way to the top of the cliffs. Sigligon remembered being petrified inside the metal cage that groaned and creaked as it slowly edged it's way up the cliff, the counterbalance was a very large rock that would pass by them causing a shadow to cast over them. This lift brought them to the summit of the cliff where they could overlook the cove. Sigligon remembered the day well. The wind blew warm against her, the scent of the sea so strong and all before her the glow of grass as the wind rippled through it moving like waves.

Stepping out of the lift they arrived at a platform that was carved into the cliff face it was large enough to hold a dragon comfortably. She remembered craning her neck up to see the chains that crisscrossed the area keeping Old One tucked away inside the valley. A door was carved into the cliff face behind them. Jovern opened the doors by pulling an ancient stone lever to the side of them. The giant stone doors heaved open revealing a path carved through the rock that Sigligon could faintly see the exit on the other side.

They walked through the stone cave Sigligon could see the chisel marks of whoever dug this cave out hundreds of years ago, the thought that people stood exactly where she stood made her shiver. As they exited the mouth of the cave Sigligon was overwhelmed with life. Birds sang in the air around them, the buzzing of insects, the sound of distant animals foraging through the forest, the sun shone down on them it's bright rays casting golden beams of light that set the grass ablaze like a golden sea and the treetops sparkled like emeralds. As they walked through the woods briefly. Jovern pointed out a few fallen trees they would cut up for fencing meanwhile Sigligon smelled nearby fowers and relished in the sight of rabbits atop their warren.

The next few days after that was them gathering wood for the fire and for the building. It was hard work and took all three of them. During this time Sigligon and Korb took turns watching the three dragons who were kept on a leash while outside the 'Roost' Upon returning back through the land entrance, their cart laden with wood they would take the lift down and stack all the wood in a pile. Once enough had been gathered they began the arduous job of cutting, measuring and building pens.

After pens had been built the next business was making a garden plot. The days soon became a constant stream of waking up, breakfast, feeding dragons, outside work-which either consisted of taking care of something or building something for future use. After work came to lunch, a brief respite then back outside for building. When night came they ate a hearty soup or another heavy meal while the three of them sat at the table and read, taught or studied or just enjoyed each others company.

By and by as things got built the work became less and less taxing. After a few months, the goats were content in their new abodes, the garden had begun to sprout and the house no longer felt empty but more like the home they needed. They turned their attention to other skills. Siglgion continued to teach Korb to read the boy learned well under her and Joverns guidance and soon was reading and writing on his own. SIgligon studied deeper into the lore of dragons Jovern guiding her and teaching all he could to the both of them.

Jovern was a smart and tactful man. Sigligon was so glad he was her father. He taught them so much and kept pushing them to learn more and be better. Jovern was the one who kept faith alive even when the sad news of the Queen's death, a blow Jovern took very hard as she was the last true monarch. But the news of a Princess born during the storm at Dragonstone did keep the dream alive. So onward they survived, living in a secluded and safe area, away from the rest of civilization gave them the time and edge they needed.

As time passed they learned more about working with dragons, how to read them how to speak to them, how to be partners. With three young dragons to teach they all learned from each other. Spring turned to summer and summer passed to winter and the two children and three young dragons aged along with the seasons.

* * *

 

One short year later after the events of what had transpired in Kings Landing, the dragons were now too large to be comfortable inside the house. Jovern introduced them slowly to Old One before allowing them to freely roam outside, although Old One accepted them she did not allow them into her cave, instead Jovern built a large structure that would house them, although they were small he knew they would grow and after several months of work the finished project stood strong and proud nearby the house.

During this construction, it was also the time for Sigligon's 8th name day, Korb who did not know his name day also choose to celebrate his name day as well with her. That day both of them received bows from Jovern and a small quiver with a few arrows. Jovern taught them to shoot that morning and throughout the day. When not teaching them how to shoot the bow he taught them how to fish, during the calm summer days when they had nothing to do all three of them would go down to the small expanse of open water in their home and fish.

Whatever they could not build, grow or produce for themselves Jovern would go to King Landing at least once a month to purchase what they needed and sold off their excess goods. Thanks to the goats they were able to produce goat milk and cheese, Jovern who was a smart man knew to sell the cheese directly to the noble house who adored the delicacy. They would sell choice cuts of fish along with crabs and shellfish.

Sigligon preferred to search for seashells and oysters to harvest pears from. These two were sold when they could. They grew specific strains of vegetables making them more appealing for Noble houses as well as grew rare herbs to sell to alchemists. Korb usually joined him on these endeavors while Sigligon was left alone to watch over things. When he returned he would bring new bolts of fabric, new seeds, and tools to build with. He also would bring news of what was transpiring outside the borders of their home, other times he would bring songs and jokes.

Those nights Sigligon loved best, they sat around the fireplace laughing or danced together singing off key while their only music was their claps and a few notes from her father's lute. He was not a master of music but the songs they sing together would always be masterpieces in Sigligons mind.

After two years Sigligon and Korb had become an excellent marksman and would challenge each other and themselves to do more. They both had studied and memorized different formulas of medicine and alchemical agents although Korb never had as much interest as she did. Korb, however, could now speak and read Valaryian, talents that Sigligon was very proud she was able to teach him. She on the other hand begun to push herself more in the academics and would try and read and interpret older texts with her father, as well as learn even more challenging alchemy recipes. She would learn from the books Jovern would order from his uncle and cousins, as well as any other books her father could get his hands on.

During this time they also acquired not just goats but now a few cows. Jovern purchased them as calves and led them to thought the land entrance and brought them down with the lift. It was a dangerous task that took all his strength but he managed. Life with the dragons had grown exceedingly mundane as well to Sigligon and Korb. They no longer tiptoed and feared when Old One emerged from her cave but rather they greeted her and spoke to her much as Jovern did.

The same could be said for the young dragons, now about the size of horses they had been accepted by Old One and she watched after them much like a mother dragon would. Both children had grown strong bonds with all three and could call down each one from the sky whenever they wished. The dragons treated them with affection and respect and the children gave that back in tenfold.

At their tenth name day when three years had passed by. Korb happened upon a small falcon chick that had fallen from its nest when he was out cutting firewood with Jovern. They looked around for the mother but could not find it nor spot the nest, not wanting to leave the chick behind he begged Jovern to keep it as his gift for his name day. Jovern begrudgingly allowed it and the last piece of their family was added. The falcon later was named Tikos which meant feather in Valyrian.

Korb soon learned to be a falconer, Sigligon crafted him a leash and hood as her gift to him and once Tikos could fly they began to teach her to hunt and return, Korb had never been so proud. It took some time to teach the dragons that Tikos was not meant for eating but after a few months they accepted the falcon and allowed it to roost on their heads.

At their twelfth year of age, both Sigligon and Korb began to diverge in their talents. Sigligon began to truly commit to her academic, learning mathematics and studying diagrams of how swords, bows, and all manner of weapons and objects could be created, she studied medicine and anatomy learning how to heal and create medication, she at times would also try her hand and inventing or creating something of her own design not all of them worked out and most failed in all honesty but the thought process helped her strive to be better and push harder.

Korb on the other hand still kept with most of his studies but he began to show more of an interest in fighting. Begging Jovern to teach him to wield a sword Korb began a journey of beginning a well-rounded warrior. He was strong and fast, qualities all warriors should posses but he also was quick minded as well if not a little too much of a risk taker. But no matter how busy their days or how much work needed to be done they never forgot why they were there and who they were loyal to.

For the longest time, they made toasts of health to the last Targaryen, a boy, Prince Visarys and his young sister Princess Daenerys. Days blended into weeks and weeks to months, time passed to Sigligon very slowly but as they grew older she felt she understood more and more of what their destiny would be.

* * *

**Apologies for the shortness and the rather dry read chapter, but I am wanting to set up these characters and background in a believable way. I promise that things will begin to pick up and merge in with the timeline.**


	9. Chapter Nine -The Hunt-

The doe stood about thirty yards away she calmly foraged for grass in the shade beneath a large elm tree. The midday sun shone down brightly allowing Sigligon to see nearly every detail of the doe, Her tan fur glowed a lighter sheen of blonde while the fur on her shoulders and neck were reddish brown in color. The doe ate peacefully, for the most part, flies annoyed her so she was constantly stomping her delicate feet and flicking both her tail and ears to rid her of the pests. All the while unknown to the doe Sigligon waited quietly, bracing against a tree waiting for her opportunity.

When the doe had reached down to graze on a thicker patch of dry brush Sigligon brought her bow up into position beginning to ready her arrow, once it was in place she slowly drew it back- a move that was easy to her and felt natural to her as breathing. She calmly monitored her breaths letting them out softly and slowly so as not to make a sound. The doe picked her head up urgently. Sigligon kept as still as a statue. For a few brief moments, the thought the doe was going to run off but after the doe had studied her surroundings she decided danger was not near.

The doe returned to eating and Sigligon wasted no time, deftly she aimed towards the spot that was about two to three inches away from the does elbow, it was there the heart rested beneath the lungs. There was barely a breeze so wit a final adjustment to the angle of her bow she drew in a breath then calmly let it go as she let her fingers unclasp the arrow nock. The arrow flew over the ground and in a moment it struck it's target straight and true.

The arrow punctured the deer with such force the doe was knocked over, a hoarse cry emitted from its mouth before silence. Sigligon lowered her bow and quickly shouldered it. She made her way to the doe, treading over the ground swiftly she pushed her way through the forest floor before making it to her prey. The doe twitched every now and then but Sigligon could see the soul of the animal was gone. It was a quick and clean death. She bowed and closed the animal's eyes before removing her arrow.

She tied up the doe's legs with the twine she brought with then began the task of dragging the body back through the forest to where Korb was waiting. It took about an hour for her to make it back dragging the doe with her. When she finally reached the clearing where Korb and Tikos waited. Korb was standing next to the wagon Tikos was sat on his outstretched arm, he gently stroked her as he whistled softly.

Both of them were now ten and six, on their way to becoming adults. Korb now stood a full head taller than her, but despite that, he still acted the same goofy and happy Korb. As she neared she cleared her throat angrily. "Help a lady won't you?" She exclaimed. Korb turned to her, his light blue eyes shone brightly and innocently as he shrugged then placed a hand over his eyes as if searching for something in the distance. "A lady? Where I see none here?"

Sigligon glared but couldn't stop the smile spreading to her lips. Korb gave her his signature sideways grin. He let Tikos fly free as he walked up to her. "My dear sister," he said moving her away from the deer. He easily hoisted the doe up unto his shoulders. His years working on the building, farm work, and weapons practice had built him up strong, thick cords of muscle filled out his shoulders and frame, and yet he maintained certain agility to him as well. The agility that granted him the ability to run and step with sure-footedness much like a wild horse on a mountainside.

Sigligon was thankful to him as he carried the doe over to the wagon and placed it next to the three young boars that they had both taken that morning. "Thank-you, dearest brother," she said in a teasing manner. Korb chuckled "Well? shall we retire or go for a few more?" he asked stretching and motioning to the forest. Sigligon shook her head. "It's midday not much will be out now." Korb nodded agreeing.

He reached his arm up and whistled for Tikos. Tikos glided down to them and landed on Korb's arm. Korb reached down and gave her a small bit of meat he had in a pouch on his belt. "Good girl, shall we go back then?" he asked her. Sigligon walked over and climbed up to sit in the cart. Korb walked over and grabbed Blackie. Blackie was a mare that Jovern purchased late last year, she and her sister Star were owned by a brute of a man who did not care for them. Jovern saw the state they were in when they were being bid off for slaughter and he decided they needed to be saved.

Blackie was the older sister she was ten now and stood towering over both her and Korb for she was of the heavy working breed much like her sister. Thanks to Korb the both of them were nursed back to health and now served them as cart horses and on the occasion pleasure riding through the woods. Blackie was easily hitched and they rolled off towards home. As they went they played games of 'What my eye spies' and Sigligon tormented Korb with riddles. They drove through the cave with the cart, Blackie did not mind the darkness and she knew just where to step.

Sigligon pulled the lever and opened the doors allowing them to enter into the large platform on the cliff top. It was unreal to be in a cart overlooking such a view. Korb got down and led Blackie to the cage. He had her back the cart in before he placed a wrap over her eyes and head. He then took the now blinded mare into the far corner where he tied her tightly to a makeshift stall that would prevent her from panicking and moving about.

They pulled the chain that started the contraption. Sigligon who for a long while was afraid of the loud churning of metal now relaxed and cleaned off her arrows as she waited the few minutes it took to descend. Blackie snorted in the corner as she pawed nervously. Korb stayed next to her and calmed her. When the cage had come to a lurching halt they waited a few moments for Blackie to calm before taking her from the stall and re-hitching her to the wagon.

They made their way back to the house. Sigligon noted that there was no smoke coming from the chimney so father must not have returned from town. They took their kills to the small shed beside the house to be gutted. While Sigligon removed the organs and skinned the doe, Korb took Blackie to the 'stable' a small lean-to added on to the house and brushed and fed her. Korb joined her after a while and helped her finish up the doe. "Should we skin the boar or just feed them to the dragons?" Sigligon mulled it over. "If we feed them the boar we won't have to feed them for at least two days, that way we can sell the cheese that's ready and buy a steer outright to feed them"

"I thought father was going to do that today?" Korb asked her as he washed his hands in the bucket next to him. Sigligon smiled softly, in the years growing up Korb had truly become like a brother to her, so much so that Jovern had taken to calling him his son, for it was true Jovern cared for the boy just like any father would a son.

"He said he would wait, he had an urgent meeting with an old friend today" Korb looked quizzical at her. "With who?" he said as they left the shed. "Didn't say a name, just said an old contact of his has returned back and he wanted to catch up." Korb shrugged as he shouldered two of the young boars over his shoulder. Sigligon could scarcely imagine how he did so, they had to weigh at least 60lbs each. Korb did seem to grunt under the weight but managed himself well, she, on the other hand, it took all her might just to get a good grip on the bloody thing.

They rounded the corner of the house and looked down into the valley more to see the three dragons flying in lazy circles. Sigligon and Korb walked away towards them before dropping the boar down. Korb grunted and sighed as he relished in the feeling of being free from the weight. "Well don't be a show off next time," she said to him. A large grin was her only answer from him. She reached down and grabbed her whistle, it was exactly like her fathers, he had taught her how to carve it out of wood, where to place the holes and at what angles.

She brought it to her lips and blow one shrill shriek from the smaller hole at the one end. She watched as the dragons slowly banked and descended towards them, they knew the food was to be had. The dragons were now as large as the house, to an unlearned person, they would say they were full grown. But Sigligon knew that although they had all the capabilities of full-grown dragons they were still not yet so.

Old One was the true grown one, she would be considered a 'great dragon' by academia. Her head was as large as a carriage and horses all in one. Her eyes the size of a grown adults head and yet she had a peaceful and gentleness to her. Meledārys landed first, he was the great red leader, strong, fast and proud dragon and carried himself like a noble his head held high and took each lumbering step with purpose.

'Mele' bowed his head down to Sigligon as he sniffed her once. He gave a small faint purr as she patted his nostril and spoke to him. She made sure to scratch under on his chin as well. Mele studied her with his intelligent eyes. Sigligon watched as Korb had both arms wrapped around Kastamēre's neck. The blue dragon churred noisily and rubbed into Korb. Rhealla poked a head around Mele and gave Sigligon a curious look.

Sigligon gave her a small pat, she was graceful and beautiful as a true queen, her scales gleamed in the sun and she shone like a bright white light, a midday star but on earth. Siglgion dragged a boar over to Rhealla and gave her permission to begin to eat. Rhealla quickly snapped up the boar and carried it over to eat in peace away from the boys. Mele made move to chase after her but Sigligon gave a low growl and Mele obeyed.

Korb launched a boar corpse into the air for Kastamēre to catch and eat meanwhile Sigligon played a friendly game of tug of war with Mele, the years of raising and training the dragons correctly gave them deeper bonds so Sigligon knew when Mele was being serious or not. As the three dragons ate their boar Sigligon walked down to the cave where Old One was sleeping like she normally did most days. She saw the charred remains of a goat nearby and knew that Jovern had fed her this morning.

The hardest task for all three of them was keeping the dragons fed and occupied, not an easy task when they lived in such quarters with many an animal dragons saw as ‘prey' but they earned enough money and haunted often enough to satiate even Old One's appetite. Old One opened one eye lazily to glance at her before adjusting her sleeping position and falling back to deeper sleep. Sigligon smiled at this, no matter how big she couldn't help but equate the dragons to overly large cats at times.

After checking on Old One she made her way back up to where Korb was no finishing up nightly chores. Korb was brushing down the horses while they ate. Sigligon walked past him and into the goat pens, they had two medium sized pens, one filled mostly with mothers and young kid the other was full of males and yearlings.

Sigligon set about to mucking out the pens while also spreading out hay and feed for the animals. Nearby a few of the chickens were roosting on the fence so she tossed a handful of grain their way as well. After double checking the water tanks for the four steers, Sigligon headed into the house. She breathed in a sigh as she made her way into the kitchen area to check on the soup she had simmering, tasting it she stirred up the coals underneath the iron oven top and added a little more oregano.

It was beginning to shift into the early hours of the evening but there was still plenty of sun yet so she decided to go up the stairs into her room and read on the windowsill. She ascended the steps quickly than turned a quick right at the top of the stairs to enter her room. It was small but not so much where she longed for more space. In one area she had her bed fitted with linen and a large cowhide blanket. Her dresser sat next to her bed that held most of her clothing items, she had maybe one dress while the rest of her garments were that of leather breeches and wool shirts and a few different styles jerkins.

Next to her dresser sat a small sewing area where clothes that needed mending sat waiting to do but she ignored them for now, instead choosing to pass them and walk to the other side of her room where her work area was. Several shelves lined the walls all of them were filled with books as well as a few piles along the wall. On her table was an odd assortment of parchments, leather working tools and pieces and shards of failed inventions as well as in progress ones, most of which would be impossible to tell apart except by her eyes only.

Moving on from there she picked up a small book from her pile of ‘to be read' books that grew in size every time father returned from Kings Landing. This one was a collection of ballads, she liked reading these from time to time, a few of them were rumored to have been written by Prince Rheagar. Plopping herself into her preferred reading spot Sigligon read away the hours. She heard Korb outside practicing on his dummies and the occasional sound of dragons play fighting in the sky. Once the light was beginning to dim and she was finding it hard to read the words on the page she looked up from her book.

She listened for the familiar sound of Jovern downstairs but he seemed to not be home yet, although odd it wasn't completely worrying since there were times he returned later than expected. She shrugged it off and put her book to the side before scampering down the stairs to finish the final touches to her soup. She cut up the bread that she had baked yesterday and began to set the table.

A loud bang as the door swung open startled her as she turned glaring at Korb who sheepishly shrugged. His skin was damp and his hair was still dripping so she surmised that he had chosen to wash up after practice. Tikos sat on his shoulder preening her feathers as Korb lifted her up and placed her on a nearby roost, a thick stick that Korb had managed to jam into a random knot whorl on one of the houses support beams.

Sigligon glanced out the window to the now dark sky she pursed her lips then decided to light a lantern for when Jovern would return could see his way. She sat down at the table in a huff and began to tuck in greedily slurping up her soup not caring how hot it burned on her mouth.

Korb was furiously blowing on his own and shot daggers at her. "You cooked it too hot!" Sigligon rolled her eyes. "It just came off the stove what do you expect it to be cold?" Korb muttered under his breath and instead turned his attention to the bread. With that, both of them fell into an easy silence as they ate their supper. Later once they had eaten and cleaned up they both sat by the fire sipping some cider. Korb had returned Tikos to her ‘hatchery' where she stayed when she was not out and about with Korb.

Occasionally she could hear the birds flutter from branch to branch in the modified room upstairs. For the life of her she couldn't figure out how Korb could sleep with her flying about all hours of the night or the fact she defecated in the very room he was living in, did he not smell it? Korb looked up from his drink as if he heard her exact thoughts. "I wonder if Jovern decided to stay the night with his friend? He sometimes does that but usually, he would let us know, what do you think?" Korb asked.

Sigligon mulled over this. "Your right it seems off, but maybe they got into drinks and it slipped his mind?" She suggested turning to study her brother, Korb took a large draft of ale as he shrugged. She shook her head "He will be here tomorrow though I am sure." she stated to reassure herself but Sigligon couldn't help but feel a small prickle of worry settle inside her stomach. _'What if he didn't? What if something bad has happened?'_ She tried to push the thoughts from the mind but they kept growing as the night extended longer, till eventually, everything faded to black.

* * *

 

Sigligon jolted awake when she felt a cold liquid spill on her leg. She looked around sluggishly the sleep still fogging her mind. She blinked a few times and realized she had fallen asleep in her chair next to the fire. Glancing down she saw that the liquid that had awoken her was the leftover cider from last night still in the cup her hand clasped. Slowly she unfurled her fingers from it they felt stiff and sore.

Groaning and rubbing her face, she glanced to where Korb had been sitting last night to see if he was still there but the chair was empty. Scanning the kitchen and entrance from where she sat she also realized that father had still not returned. Worry and even a little fear began to fill her as she scampered up into her room to change. Changing out of her dirty clothes she quickly dressed before running back downstairs and out to the privy to relieve herself.

Once she was relieved she walked back around the house to see if maybe just maybe her father had returned and had decided to not wake her? But she did not see the familiar wooden hand card her father would use on such trips. Disappointed she went back inside to see Korb bright and chipper in the kitchen a mouth stuffed with bread while he was smothering a second piece with butter and honey only to dip it in some milk before biting down into it fresh milk dribbled down his chin as he looked up at her.

Momentarily disgusted she shook her head and ignored him as he tried to give her the largest grin he could muster while keeping his food all in his mouth. "Stop that! You are such a loaf when it comes to eating!" she yelled at his exasperated. Korb shrugged and swallowed audibly as he turned back to her "Says the one who scarfed her supper last night like a piggy! Thought I might have to dive in and save you from your soup you kept putting your head into!" he yelled back jestfully. 

She blushed in embarrassment but threw an apple at him, which he caught of course and tossed back to her. She groaned frustrated and set the apple back down. Grabbing a final piece of bread she poured a little honey unto it before munching on it slowly.

"What's the matter?" Korb asked accessing her lack of enjoyment and worry on her face. "He still hasn't returned," she answered softly. Korb sighed "It's only morning Sigi, give him a bit if he is not back by noon I will go into Kings Landing myself and see what I can find, okay?" Sigligon nodded Korb and Jovern were really the only ones that could go into Kings Landing, Jovern only took her along on rare occasions. He did it to protect her, many things can happen to young ladies especially those with bright red hair, it made her a target for those in the slave trade or even those in whore houses.

She blanched at the thought but turned to Korb and nodded "Fine, but do all your chores first please." Korb nodded and swiftly turned and ran over to the stairs that took them two at a time. From downstairs, she could hear as he thundered down the hall to his room there was a brief pause for when he was rummaging around in his room before she heard his returning footsteps. Taking the stairs three at a time on the way back he gave her a wave as he ran past and out the door. Sigligon blinked and shook her head before going to the task of preparing fresh bread for tonight, as well as adding more broth and vegetables to the soup.

After preparing the dough she covered it and placed it on the windowsill so that it could rise. She cleaned up the kitchen and glanced outside at the sun it was almost noon and still no sign. She pushed it from the mind and tried to calm her nerves before going upstairs and changing into work clothes. Once changed she went outside and checked on the goats, Korb looked like he was milking the last of them, the buckets of milk sat on the nearby shelf taking two at a time Sigligon hauled the buckets over to the large kettle and began to start a fire beneath it to bring all the goats milk to a boil so that she could strain it then she would later add some rummet to it so that it could curdle up for cheese.

When both of them had finished up there they went back into the house for a small break. They sat at the table looking over towards the where Jovern would be coming from. Silently Sigligon hoped that he would appear and yet the only thing they saw was the soft sea wind blowing through the grass. With a heavy sigh, Korb rose up from the table. "I will head in then." Sigligon looked up at him and for a moment she feared what if he didn't make it back either? Korb frowned for a second then suddenly pulled her in for a deep hug.

"Don't worry" he said in her ear "I'll be back soon." they parted and Sigligon wrapped a small bag of cheese and bread for him to have as a snack. Korb took a few coins from their stash and nodded to her as he buckled his sword belt to his waist. Once he was packed and ready he kissed her forehead and said: "Take care of Tikos while I'm gone, I put some rabbit meat in the cold storage." Sigligon nodded and waved him off as he walked towards the tunnel entrance to Kings Landing, for the first time in a long time it seemed Siglgion began to pray.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10 -Betrayal-

Korb took in a deep sigh as he rested in the ally. Walking the tunnel from home to the secret stone room that lies beneath the streets of King's Landing had always tired him out. However, if one combined that with having to climb his way out through the old well made it an absolute pain at times. He took a swig from his water skein and enjoyed leaning against the cool stone at his back. It was not a hot day rather, it was mild with a gentle breeze and clear skies.

Korb did not allow himself to linger for long, this was not a social visit he was here to find Jovern. With the thought of his name, an image of Jovern appeared in Korb's mind, the man's bright red beard and twinkling eyes as well as his booming voice and the way it filled the room as he read aloud from a book. Korb lingered on that mental image before pushing himself from the wall and squaring his shoulders as he continued his way down the ally.

The ally was mostly empty and on a rare chance, he managed to find one that was not swimming in piss and rats. Keeping a look above for the contents of privy pots he quickly moved to the end of the ally, towards the dense crowds that swarmed just beyond it. 

When he came to the ally's end he took a moment to take in the sea of people that surrounded him, the brightly colored clothing as well as the glinting of light off of armor and jewelry. Here and there people of clashing classes walked amongst each other, the rich nobles with their highly decorated fine clothes, the ladies strolled with long dresses of intricate patterns and expensive cloth, on their thin delicate necks sat gold and silver necklaces set with bright gemstones, there was one thin silver molded to look like the graceful leaves of an olive tree and on the tips sat precious sapphires.

On another, he saw golden squares arranged in a repeating pattern with Tiger's eye and Pearl. The nobles, of course, meandered freely not a care in the world, their armed guards grizzled with scars and age eyed all around them like hawks. Most that filled the street were common folk, wearing basic wool spun clothing, a few women had maybe a small pewter or copper necklace the men wore no jewelry at all save for a few merchants. Groups of children ran to and fro in the crowd, some of them innocent and lost in play, others were conniving to pickpocket those they could.

Korb kept a wary eye out keeping his hand near the hilt of his dagger tucked in his belt. He had only had to deal with a would-be thief once and the memory sprang to mind as fresh as if it had only happened a day ago. Him and Jovern were going to pick up an order when a young child of eight or so attempted to grab his coin pouch he had stopped the boy by grabbing him by his ear and twisting very hard, he remembered the high pitched scream the boy emitted before Korb and Jovern took the time to set the boy down and ask him why he needed money.

The boy had then explained his father was dead and mother was a street whore and he and his four siblings were hungry. Jovern and Korb took the boy as speaking the truth and told him if he helped carry packages that day for them they would pay him five gold crowns, one for each of his siblings and him. Korb smiled at the memory and wondered where the boy and his family was. Korb did not get to wonder too long for a man barked at him to move faster out of the way of his cart.

Jumping to the side Korb let him pass he cursed the man under his breath and carried on his way. Swerving his way and that through the crowd, shouldering and pushing when needed. He hated how packed and how loud it would get, not to mention the stench of all those sweaty bodies. Along the street sides, hawkers bellowed out deals on wares, vying to catch everyone's attention. Korb ignored those he could and slowly made his way towards a familiar shop. The shop was what one would call a secondhand seller, the owner Rodrick was an older gentleman who has known Jovern for many years. Rodrick's shop, ' _ _The Collectors Palace'__  sat on a corner just a block down from the main streetway that Korb walked.

Thankfully the street was more quiet and secluded and Korb felt like he could breathe again once more as he made his way towards the small two-story shop. He ascended up the two steps that lead to the heavy oak door that was the entrance, on either side of the door two large glass windows held displays of just some of the countless trinkets that lie within the shop. Korb pushed his way into the shop. He saw Rodrick's son Rorin help a customer at the till. Korb paused and eyed the nearby tables and shelves filled with collectible goods, last season's ladies hats and gloves, cases of secondhand jewelry and cutlery, tea sets and glassware had a table all to themselves, three large bookshelves sat on the left-hand wall, filled to the brim with an assortment of books.

Korb gave them a once over as he passed by however he did not see anything that would be useful. He did see a small sewing kit and decided to grab it, knowing that Sigligon would always need more needles and thread, she had a talent for breaking them, she had no patience or gentleness to her sewing, instead sewed fast and with no mercy to the needle held in her fingers. Korb meandered about the store giving a few cloaks that hung on a nearby rack a once over as Rorin finished with his customer. The customer was an older man, wearing finer clothing but had some wear on them, Krob surmised he was of a middling house, not exactly noble but better off than most in King's Landing could claim.

The man thanked Rorin and pocketed his change before turning to leave, he greeted Korb with a curt nod before ushering his way out of the store. Rorin turned his attention to Korb, Rorin gave him a quick greeting before busying himself with polishing some silverware. Korb was taken aback by this usually Rorin would always take the chance to talk with anyone who would listen. Rorin was a few years older than Korb, with a thick head of black hair that he kept combed back, his beard and mustache were always expertly trimmed and he wore fine fitting robes that he made sure to always keep clean.

"Afternoon there Rorin, busy day?" Korb asked making his way to the counter. Rorin glanced up at him and nodded "Yes, quite so." he answered quickly. Korb glanced around "Is your father in by any chance?" Korb asked nicely thinking perhaps Rodrick would be the better to ask about the disappearance of Jovern. A surprising spark of anger came to Rorin's eyes, but just as quickly as it came it disappeared. "No, he is off to pick up a shipment, is there something I can help you with?" Rorin asked gruffly. Korb was once again taken aback by Rorin's sudden coldness and deflecting.

"Well...yes" he began clearing his throat. "I was just wondering if you by any chance seen Jovern? He came here yesterday-" "Jovern picked his stuff up and left, that is all I remember" Rorin interjected cutting him off. Korb was beginning to get angry but remained calm. "I'm sorry if I am bothering, it's just I have not seen him since then and wanted to make sure no change of plans had occurred." Rorin nodded but remained silent, the fork he had been polishing was probably the shiniest one Korb has ever seen.

"I believe that one is done," Korb said directing his eyes towards it. Rorin scowled and moved onto the next one. "There has been a large uptick in new product, several houses have been declared traitor and their items and wealth seized," Rorin announced but Korb could tell Rorin was directing his conversation at Korb. Korb tilted his head in interest. "Oh? What for?" Rorin paused in his ministrations before meeting Korb's gaze. "Well some, declared King Robert's tax increase unlawful, and other's surprisingly have been found to still harbor goodwill towards the Targaryen's" Rorin spoke his eyes never leaving Korb's.

Korb kept his emotion in check. "I see...well I am sorry to waste your time-" he began to say but Rorin cut him off "You Know," there is now even renewed interest in finding Targaryen loyalists, so much so that King Robert has placed a 100 Crown bounty on any they can find." Korb mustered the strength to not gulp but was unable to stop the shiver that ran down his spine. "100 Crowns you say?" he asked feigning interest. "Yes 100 Crowns, that is quite the amount," Rorin added moving on to polish a spoon.

"So much so, that people would be willing to turn in anyone who they think may be one, no one is safe it seems." Rorin stabbed dagger after worded dagger at Korb. Korb was seething on the inside by this time, he did not take kindly to threats but he knew he had far more important things that counted on him and his ability to remain calm. "You are correct" he stated. Placing the sewing kit on the counter to purchase. "People, even those who you can consider friends can always turn to be snakes deep down inside, one must be careful these days in who they choose to befriend."

The air between them seemed charged but Rorin never took his eyes off of Korbs. Korb reached into his side pouch and took out some coin and placed it on the counter. Suddenly Rorins hand slapped itself down to cover Korb's pinning it to the counter. Rorin leaned in his faces inches from Korb's before speaking, Rorin's voice dark and low "Very true words indeed, but do not also forget, one must think even more so on who they choose as their master." There was a deafening silence, Korb bit the inside of his cheek, his stomach was tied in knots, every fiber in his being wanted to reach across the counter and strike Rorin in the face, to knock that cocky sly grin and turn it into a jagged mess of blood and broken teeth, but he didn't.

Instead, with a conscious effort, he said one sentence. "Keep the change" before he tore his arm away from Rorin, he turned on his heel and left. Korb forced his way outside, already his breathing came in ragged gasps as he staggered down and into a nearby dark ally. Feral cats ran off screaming as he found himself bracing against a crumbling wall. Emotion warred within him. Pain mixed with red hot anger, cold fear as well as dark despair.

He knew what Rorin was telling him, it was all to clear. An image of Jovern flashed in his mind before he nearly collapsed against the wall as he held back sobs, shaking from the effort when he heard a harsh whisper from nearby. "Korb!" Korb twisted quickly his hand grabbing his dagger hilt. A hooded figure stood a few feet away. Korb snarled ready to fight. "Korb it's me!" the figure said stepping closer and removing the cloak, it was an elderly man, one with thick graying hair and immaculate mustache, it was Rodrick!

"R..Rodrick?" Korb mumbled out. There was a pain in Rodrick's eyes, he was visibly shaken as well. "I am so sorry Korb!" he lamented as he came forward and placed his hands on Korb's shoulders. "We have been betrayed, by my own flesh and blood! he sobbed gripping Korb's shoulders even tighter. "What do you mean? What is happening Rodrick?" Korb cried unknowing what to do. Rodrick bowed his head. He spoke quietly, the voice of a man broken. "Rorin...my only son...Rorin he heard of the King's Bounty, forced me to sign over the shop and all his inheritance just to let me go free, and then...Jovern."

It was Korb's turn to clamp onto Rodrick's shoulders "What happened!" Korb snapped fresh anger tearing from his voice. Rodricks face crumpled. "Rorin laid a trap, called in the Goldcloaks, and when Jovern came...they took him." Korb's heart skipped a beat and for a second the world seemed to spin around him. The sudden urge to scream out seized him. Rodrick cupped Korb's face in his hands. Korb could feel hot stinging tears leave his eyes and slide down his face.

He sobbed out as Rodrick brought him into a hug. "I am sorry my boy, I know you would be coming eventually, I have waited for as long as I dare." Korb sniffled and sobbed his body shaking as cries caught in his throat making him feel like he was being choked. "Where...where is he?" Korb keened. Rodrick parted from him and shook his head "He most likely is either dead or in the dungeons waiting to be executed, nothing can save him...he...he took out three Goldcloaks before they subdued him."

The thought of Jovern being dead sent Korb reeling, he felt all of a sudden like he was trapped on a tiny boat in the middle of a dark storm at sea. He was lost and being overtaken by the memories that flooded his mind. Jovern teaching him to fish, Jovern giving him his first sword lesson, Jovern chastising him for leaving his bow in the rain, the trips they took to town, the long summers of working, the cold nights tucked away next to the fire in the house reading stories of old, or them singing, Jovern in his gruff and loud sailor voice, while Korb played along his fingers dancing over the lute.

Korb began to sink to the ground his legs had grown weak. A cold numb feeling was taking over his body as quiet tears rolled down his face in a torrent. "I'm sorry...I am so sorry." Rodrick repeated stroking his hair. Rodrick was beside himself filled with grief and guilt. After what seemed like hours Korb found some strength to look up to Rodrick. "What now" he choked out his voice hoarse.

Rodrick pulled Korb up off of the wet stone and lead him down the ally some more. "I managed to hide away his cart and supplies while Rorin was busy collecting his bounty." Rodrick brought him to the familiar handcart laden with wrapped goods. Rodrick reached into the back and pulled out a very familiar object, Jovern's Valyrian steel sword. "He dropped it in the fight, the idiots didn't even realize how important it was, they kicked it aside in the street." Korb was flabberghasted. Rodrick could have easily sold this and bought a ticket to get to Essos and even then purchased a new storefront all on the value that this sword had.

"You?" was all Korb managed to get out as he took the sword from Rodrick. "It belongs to your family, I have no right to take it," Rodrick assured him quietly. "I am not his son." Korb choked out, fresh tears stinging the corners of his eyes. Rodrick put a firm hand on his shoulder and tilted Korb's face to his. "No." he firmly spoke "You may not be his by blood, but he told me once if he could, he would take you before whatever King there was and have you sworn in as his own, he raised you, Korb, you are not a servant or a Ward to him, you are his son, no matter what."

Korb sniffled and nodded his face scrunching up as he hugged Jovern's sword to his chest. Jovern kept the sword in a very basic scabbard so as not to draw attention to the rareness of the blade. Rodrick turned and glanced over the cart. "This was the last supplies he ordered, I took the liberty of throwing on a few other things before Rorin came back." Korb glanced up and scanned the cart, it was covered so he was unable to tell what was all on it. "What about you?" he asked Rodrick.

Rodrick grinned "You think I left all my money and treasure in that place?" he said gesturing towards what was once his shop. "Believe it or not but I was a smuggler a lifetime ago, it was how I started out, and a smuggler knows to not put all your treasures on one ship, in case one ever sinks."

Korb was surprised he had no idea of Rodrick's past. "What happened?" Rodrick grinned "I got out smuggled by an upstart, some crabber turned smuggler, decided it was best to throw in the towel and start a land-based business instead, see how that turned out....betrayed by my own" he spat.

Rodrick shook his head defeated then put a hand on Korb's shoulder. "Be smart Korb, It rests on you and Sigligon to do what is right, one day our rightful King will return, just you wait." Korb nodded and heeded his advice. Rodrick and he shared one last hug before Rodrick stepped away and grabbed a nearby satchel, he gave Korb a grin before pulling his cloak up then he turned and Korb watched as Rodrick faded away into the crowd.


	11. Chapter 11 - Lost -

The journey back home to Korb was a strange one indeed. While he had the cart he found himself able to think clearer for his mind was on the thought of guiding the cart without it being damaged or getting items stolen. This thankfully kept his thoughts from thinking towards Jovern, so as he pulled and pushed the laden cart through the streets to a lesser side gate he was able to contemplate and think on all that had happened.

The guards gave him little notice and moved him along with a shrug, by now it was late afternoon and the once-temperate day had turned to be sweltering, with no longer a simple breeze to cool him down. Korb took pause outside the gates to take a long swig from his water skein. It was semi-cool and refreshing once he got past the leathery aftertaste. He gazed out and over the expanse of deep blue water that was the sea, he became lost staring at the point where the sky and sea met and his mind seemed to wander drifting above the endless waves like a small sea bird.

As he stared out at that clear entity he felt himself shrink in its presence, he breathed in slowly through his nose, the salty air relaxed him as he let out a slow exhale. He turned back to the path and task at hand delivering himself and the cart back home safely. The trip for him was double-edged, on one hand, if he took his time he was able to think of how he was going to explain to Sigligon that their father was dead. The thought still made his eyes water and his heartache mercilessly. But for whatever reason, either dehydration or exhaustion, most likely the combination of the two his tears were short-lived.

He wrestled with himself, did he return home as fast as possible to tell the news and to break Sigligons heart? Or does he take his time and make her worry stretch on even farther? The latter to him seemed the worse of the two, for there was nothing crueler than the idea to keep holding on to false hope. Filled with determination he dug his heels into the rocky path and put all his effort into getting home. It would take him a few hours he knew but decided that the physical work out would be just the thing he needed to cope, all the while however he wondered just how on earth he would be able to face Sigligon.

 The image of her in mind pushed him on even harder, his goal now was to protect her no matter the cost, to him he was more precious than even the dragons, she was his sister not by blood but by oath and he would do what needed to be done he swore it to himself, from this day to his last day before the old gods and the new.

* * *

 

Sigligon was furiously chopping up carrots, her short kitchen knife made quick work of the white veggies. Scraping the cut up pieces into her hands she turned and dropped them into the stew pot stirring as she did so.  Turning she scanned the counter for what else she had left, spotting the only thing remained was some leeks she lept forward and as fast as she dared to she diced up the leeks and tossed them into the pot, in the same motion she bent down and poked the coals around to set the stew to simmer instead of boil.

She turned once more to the door and still no sign of Jovern or Korb. Glancing about the place she wondered what else she could clean? The books had been dusted and organized alphabetically by name, but she then decided halfway through it made more sense to organize by subject than alphabetically. She lost track of how many times she had swept the floor, a glance over of the kitchen revealed four pies already on the windowsill, maybe she could fit another? Leaning back on the balls of her feet she chewed her thumbnail she mulled over what to do next.

She was so worried and anxious and being alone in the house put her on edge, every sound seemed to be magnified, from the simplest creak of wood to the scraping of a pot or pan seemed to echo throughout, reminding her just how alone she was. She tossed her apron on the table and ran to the door, pushing her way outside she breathed in the fresh salt air, it was surprisingly warm and the heat felt good on her skin after being inside a dark stone house all day.

She put a hand to her forehead to block out the sun's harsh ray's as she looked for the dragons, she felt giddy with the thought of what she was about to do. She spotted them at their favorite sunning spot, they lounged around like great lazy beasts sleeping, sprawled out amongst each other. She made her ways towards them nearly skipping down the path as she did kicking up rocks and debris as she made her approach. When she drew near she could hear the deep rumbling snores, Rhealla was curled perfectly in a tight ball of wings and horns while Mele and Kasta preferred to take up as much ground as possible, their wings and bodies stretched out as far as they could.

Sigligon sang out Mele's name, causing the red and gold dragon to stir. He lifted his head and yawned, the movement awoke Kasta, the blue dragon woke up stretching and shaking himself. Both dragons pushed their way to greet her. She held out her hands to their large noses, it was magical to touch a dragon, the way they felt wasn't just cold scales there was an energy there, a life force, something old and ancient that also felt young and alive.

She stared into Mele's eyes, the bright amber flecked with gold shone like pools of fire. His eyes studied hers and held her in a warm and welcoming stare. Siglgion stroked along his upper lip and nose before making her way to his head and neck. Mele already knew what she had planned, he positioned himself in place lowering his shoulder. She grinned as she quickly scrabbled her way up onto the dragons back.

Jovern had forbidden her and Korb from ever riding a dragon, only in extreme need should they ever consider it, but children will be children and when the dragons had grown large enough and when Jovern was away Sigligon and Korb latched onto their dragons necks and they tore off into the sky, their wings beating rapidly. She remembered then the thrilling rush and elation that came from seeing the ground disappear so fast. The feeling of almost floating while wind raced and howled in her face and ears. That same feeling returned to her even now as Mele pushed off, his large wings beating against the sky launching him up as far as he could go.

The feeling of being on his back always made her worries go away, she could get lost in the experience of feeling his body move and turn beneath her. Every muscle and scale working together to give flight to this beautiful beast. Just as fast as she felt free on his back, the same feeling of being trapped did too. She glanced up at the chains that crisscrossed above them If Sigligon where to stand she could be able to touch them.

The dragons seemed to notice the chains but none, not even Old One seemed to want to go near or to try and break free, they were content here, but Sigligon wondered briefly for how much longer would they be content, here eventually they would want to go out right? But perhaps not, Old One had lived here for nearly two hundred years and she seemed satisfied perhaps the younger ones would be to. Sigligon gripped the large spines on Mele's back firmly as she guided him into curving around the perimeter of their home.

All around the dark jagged peaks stood against the contrast of the clear blue skies. It was hot that day but with the wind from being on Mele's back, she could not feel the heat. Only the crisp sea air as it tore at her clothing making it flutter and flap rapidly. Sigligon studied Mele's wings, watching the sinew and bone move, the way a simple twist and turn affected his flight pattern, the large blood vessels that could be seen through the thin membrane of his wing.

To her it was mesmerizing, he moved like a great machine, fluid and powerful. To be on his back was a blessing, up here she felt like a goddess like she were part of the world itself, some force of nature made in flesh. She laughed and ran her hands down Mele's neck, his bright red scales glowed like embers in the sun, to her he looked like a perfect statue, no scale seemed out of place, he was perfect in every way.

As they rounded past the small pool at the very edge of their home, they banked sharply, Siglgion leaned with Mele instinctively, to her flying felt as easy as breathing, you had to move with the dragon and use your legs, not your hands and arms. She let go of his spines and closed her eyes, she lifted her own arms, pretending for a second she was a dragon herself, flying. It always frightened her doing this, but she trusted Mele and knew no harm could come to her when she was on his back.

Feeling the wind incircle her arms she let her fingers drag through the air, cupping it and attempting to capture it in her palm. She opened her eyes and saw that Kasta and Rhealla were following them. She giggled at them as they swayed to and fro and flew in a formation like a dance around her. She could sense Mele wanted to join them in their game so she placed a hand firmly on his shoulder and leaned out to catch his eye, Mele's beautiful amber and gold eye stared up at her warmly.

"Tegun," she said loud enough to hear. Mele blinked, understanding her he banked and began to descend downwards towards the grass below them. The ground came rushing up at them and Sigligon braced for landing. Mele's wings furled out entirely catching as much air as possible to slow himself in the air, allowing them a rather soft landing. Sigligon instantly shot up and slid down the edge of his wing allowing her to dismount in only a moment, she found this faster and much more fun than climbing down.

She staggered as her feet connected to the ground but she twirled around just in time to meet Mele's head, she clasped her arms around what she could and gave him a hug, her face pressing near his eye, she stroked and scratched underneath his jaw. Mele purred loudly before stepping back to return to the sky. Sigligon ducked as the great red King vaulted into the air over her head. She gazed up at the three young dragons, how vibrant and beautiful they were flying ahead, no matter how many times she saw them she always felt so in awe of them.

This is where she belonged, how many generations of her family worked and toiled away for this very moment and here it was healthy dragons alive and thriving being taken care of. All while waiting for the return of their rightful King, one day Prince Viserys would return, and he and his sister would bring back the Targaryen dynasty and dragons would roam free once more. It was a fantasy dream she knew, but perhaps it could happen. If dragons could return to the world what else could come true?

Siglgion turned and ran up the hill towards the house. Wondering briefly on what more she needed to do today before Jovern returned. Just the thought of his name brought back the ill gut feeling she had. She cursed under her breath as she slowed down arriving at the entrance. She glanced around one last time in hopes that maybe, just maybe he had returned already. Not seeing his hand cart she pouted and pushed her way back into the house, glancing around she wondered perhaps, she should organize the books alphabetically by author instead of title. 

She worked for the rest of the day, checking on the stew, cleaning, sweeping and even at times patching up clothes from the 'needed mending' pile, which eventually ended up being all of them. During all of this, she kept a sharp eye out the window at all times. When the sun was beginning to sink back into the sea and Sigligon saw it was almost dusk, she began to set the table. Taking time to layout things just right so that when the men returned everything would be in perfect order.

Just as she was turning to go back into the kitchen she heard a sound that made her pause. It was a familiar sound, one of distant metallic clinking. Korb! and Jovern! They have returned! Immediately she wanted to throw open the door and run out to greet them but decided against it, wanting to stay and surprise them with a hot supper on the table and an impeccably clean house. She danced around the house tidying what little there was left. She listened to the cart thudding against the ground as it's wooden wheels made small creaks and groans as they headed towards her.

Sigligon recognized the familiar sound as the cart stopped and footsteps walked towards the door. She stood at the table, staring intently at the door, feeling as if she were going to burst out of her skin in anticipation. The door swung open, Sigligon's heart swelled it was Korb! She glanced behind Korb looking for Jovern's familiar bearded face but he wasn't there. Suddenly deflated and confused she swiveled her head to Korb. When she focused on him she noticed how haggard and tired he looked, sweat beaded his brow, she ran and grabbed a cup for water, pouring it as fast as she could from a nearby pitcher she rushed over to him, Korb ignored the cup and instead grabbed the entire pitcher and drank from it greedily, the water sloshing down his chin and unto his chest.

Sigligon stared at him in shock. "Korb! sit! You look like a mess! What happened!?" she said pushing him into a seat. Korb grunted but did not protest sitting down. He took another large swig from the pitcher, even more, water splashing down his chest to the point he seemed completely soaked.

Ignoring his rude table manners due to the fact he never had any she spoke out to him "It must have been torture hauling that cart, is father checking the animals then? Let me take some water to him." She rose to do so but Korb caught her elbow. She glanced at him confused. The seriousness in his pale blue eyes appeared so suddenly it sent a cold shiver down her spine, he was one to never take anything seriously.

"Sigi" he said barely above a whisper "Please sit." Siglgion furrowed her brows, she could feel her face contort in confusion. "What? why?" she asked as Korb pulled her into the seat next to him. She sat her back against the wall right next to the door, and Korb had both hands on her shoulders and he looked intently in her eyes. Fear was beginning to build inside her, she had never seen such a dark face on Korb, nor had she ever seen his eyes look the way they did, filled with pain yet also tinged with fear and even some anger swirled about in his eyes.

"Sigi" he started once more, his voice soft yet she could sense a small quiver as if he was holding back emotion. "We...we have been betrayed....and" Sigligon felt her heart skip a beat time began to slow down, she knew already even as the words flowed out of Korb's mouth "Jovern is dead." The feeling she immediately felt was a sudden painful punch to her gut that made her double over, while at the same time an icy knife wrenched it's way into her heart burying itself deeply. For a brief second no sound could be heard from her throat as hard as she tried.

Then the wail began, it was low at first but grew into a constant howl of anguish, she had lapses of awareness, she remembered being held by Korb he rocked her and stroked her hair as she sobbed and wailed into his chest. Another moment she remembered was being as still as a stone and quiet with only a constant stream of tears that flowed down her face, there she sat while Korb explained to her what happened in King's Landing, he spoke, and as he spoke he would cry, sob and break down with her.

She remembered hearing only tidbits, but they floated across her consciousness like leaves did as they fell into a stream, only to be washed away, following an invisible current. The dull ache in her heart was constant and seemed to only get sharper as the night progressed. Sigligon wept many tears that night, at times in her grief she felt as though she was an entity living outside her body looking in, watching as she broke down and collapsed in on herself like the wood from a fire dying out.

Sigligon at some point made it to her room, she did not know if by her own strength or if by Korbs, she did not sleep that night, she only lay there and gaze out her window wishing that this was all just a horrible and cruel nightmare and that in the morning she would awake and go downstairs to see her beloved father drinking his morning tea over a book, while humming a song under his breath and casually commenting of the subject of which he read out loud, that was the wish that she wished for on every star that she could see out her window.

This was a silly and childish wish but one she was willing to do whatever it took to make it true. When night lightened and dawns rosy fingers began to lace across the sky only then did she finally slip into an uneasy sleep, her dreams were of Jovern in a field with her, he said not a word but instead pointed to something at her feet, she looked down to see a nest of rats, she reviled at the sight of them but he smiled at her and picked them up cradling them; he looked down at her and spoke "Not everything is as it seems, even these have a purpose."  Then his clothing began to smoke, the rats in their nest screamed as her father began to burn in front of her, his chest, his legs, then his arms and finally his head, his beard and hair disappeared in a sudden white flame and what was left of him was only ash.


	12. Chapter 12 - To My Last Day -

At some point in time, Sigligon must have drifted off to sleep, for she found herself waking to the sound of one of the roosters crowing and birds singing outside. The sun shone down brightly on her face making her feel hot and uncomfortable. She shifted beneath her thick woolen covers and slid out of bed, for only a moment and just a moment the memories of the night before were forgotten but in the few steps between her bed and dresser, the memories came back just as poignant and as strong as before.

She muffled a sob as she collapsed against the oak dresser. She stood there her limbs quivering as silent sobs began to overtake her, she pinched her eyes as tight as she could, tears escaping through the creases as she did so. After several minutes she shook her head, fighting through the tears she found different clothing to be worn, not glancing at what she grabbed she shook off her previous clothing from the day before and threw on the fresh clothes.

Once changed she felt slightly better, for a few seconds she did not feel like she was going to be overcome by her emotions, during this small window of time she managed to rearrange her long troublesome hair in a bun on the top of her head. With a heavy sigh she left her room and made her way down the hall, she slowed when she came near to Jovern's door. Despondently she paused at the door and looked in. Sitting on his bed holding a scroll was Korb.

She could see his eyes were red and puffy most likely they mirrored her own. Korbs eyes slowly raised themselves to stare wordlessly into hers, for a few moments neither spoke instead they remained there in the silence. He heaved a great sigh, putting the scroll away he stood up. Korb's stood taller in Sigligon's eyes, he looked aged already, gone was the youthful candor, gone was the lopsided grins and energetic vigor, now what stood in that room was a haunted child forced to grow up far to fast.

Sigligon stepped into the room, even now she could still smell Jovern's scent, Leather mixed with a culmination of different spices, she could not place the spices but just knew that they were the scent of her father, now they were the only thing that remained of him, the only thing that she would have left besides the memories. She chewed her lip, she could feel her throat tightening and her eyes beginning to water. She studied his room, in the corner was his work table, strewn about was copious amounts of books and parchments along with dozens of quills and inkwells.

His desk sat right near the window so the morning sun was alighting the entire table if she squinted she could see him there still bent over the table scribbling away at something while mumbling to himself. The memory made her smile softly, she turned over to look at Korb. Korb stepped up closer to her. Tentatively he raised a hand to her shoulder. They stood like that, frozen in place as the bones of the house seemed to weigh down heavier on them.

Sigligon turned into Korb and he cradled her, they rocked from side to side slowly. She could feel Korb's gentle sob's Siglgion attempted to comfort him by rubbing his back she knew that Jovern was much like a father to him as he was to Sigligon. When they broke free Sigligon looked up into his icy blue eyes today they were darker, weighted with sorrow and pain. Upon seeing his pain great anger welled up within her like a sudden fire, the primal need to hurt those who had harmed them, to bring justice to Jovern.

"The mother's tit's" she swore bitterly turning away from Korb. Korb was taken aback by this, she could tell. "W..what?" he sputtered out. "Who was it that betrayed us? Do you know?" she spoke, still turned away from him she was surprised how low her voice was when it was tinged with anger. She felt hot all of a sudden, her anger nearly overflowing from her. She wanted to do something, anything. She thought of the fat King Robert, the drunkard and whoremonger sitting on the throne he overtook, the throne he now bellowed out orders like a stuck pig without a care in the world, it was this fat pig of a man that in his inability to rule he chose to instead scapegoat others, it was that oaf that gave the order that took her father away from her.

She gripped her arms tightly her fingernails digging into her flesh but she did not feel pain. Quietly Korb muttered out a name "Rorin" A strange calm came over Sigligon, now knowing exactly who it was to blame she thought of Rorin the man who betrayed them, how he now lived in luxury from selling off their fathers head, she wondered briefly what she could do to these men, both the betrayer and the usurper King and how could she take away everything they had, just as they had done to her.

She heard the dragons outside and for a moment an idea came to her head. She turned to Korb. "Let us make them pay! They have no idea who we are, and what we have!" she spat, she felt possessed overtaken by another person entirely. "Why not take the dragons there and let them burn the usurper! Let them burn everything and make them pay for taking away our father!" Korb had a frightened look in his eyes for a few moments before he began to shake his head vigorously.

"No Sigi!" he shouted. Sigligon startled by his sudden forcefulness. He put his hands on either shoulder and steadied her down to sit on the edge of the bed. He took a breath in and let it out she unconsciously did as well, she felt herself begin to cool, the anger that had been burning in her subsided. "Sigligon, I know you are hurting, I am as well, but Jovern would no-" Anger spiked inside her once more and she pushed Korb away, although it was the equivalent of pushing against a brick wall.

"Do not pretend to tell me what Jovern would and would not want, YOU are not his son!" she spat the words out with venom, as they fell from her lips she wished she could take them back. Korb did not get angry, he only looked at her with a dejected acceptance. After a pause, Sigligon felt her anger begin to vanish and with it her energy. Korb stood up stiffly. Sigligon struggled with that to say, how could she say something so terrible? After all the things Korb had done, and after everything, they had been through together.

"I" she stammered out, not knowing how to continue. "You are right" Korb spoke his voice flat and withholding, he turned back to her his eyes shone with fresh tears. Korb stepped towards her and knelt to her. "I am not his son" he continued bowing his head in reverence to her. Sigligon was stunned into silence. "I am and always have been his ward, a boy he took in not to be in his family but to serve." Sigligon felt deep shame building within her, her heart aching.

"Korb.." she began as she reached out to him but he pushed her hand aside. "Jovern was the kindest and wisest master I have ever known, he took me in, even though I was a bastard not because he had to, but because he wanted to," Korb explained firmly stating it before her. Korb lifted his head and met her eyes, they shone with a violent passion. "However" he began "I was raised by him just as you were, and I looked up to him just like you did, and I will always cherish his memory in my heart." Korb put a hand to his chest, tears streaming down his face, Sigligon began sobbing she now knew that at times, words could cut deeper than even the sharpest of swords.

"He was my lord" Korb finally stammered his voice breaking. Bowing his head once more he managed to choke out "And you are now my Lady, I will serve you and be faithful to House Dilis, from this day to my last day." Siglgion fell off the bed and wrapped her hands around Korb's thick neck. "Oh Korb!" she cried out "I did not mean those spiteful words! You are like a brother to me!" she proclaimed lifting her head back to look into his eyes.

Placing both hands on his cheeks she assured him "You ARE his son, not by blood but by choice, and I was foolish and terrible to say otherwise, please have it in your heart to forgive me." Korb's Adam apple bobbed in his throat as he looked into her eyes. Despite the pain there, there was also joy. Softly in a voice barely above a whisper, he choked out "There is nothing to forgive, you are hurt and in mourning, we all say things we don't mean."

Sigligon and he shared a smile. Korb stood and helped her to her feet. "Now" he quipped giving her a square look in the eye "No more talk of burning castles and Kings, that matter should be left to the Targaryen's, our duty is ' _ _Īlon dohaeragon zaldrīzoti__ '" Sigligon nodded "We serve dragons" she stated firmly.

Together she and her brother turned to the door and walked down the stairs to the kitchen, as they did Sigligon thought to herself ' _ _I know that the hole in my heart will never stop hurting, but I must be strong, for father, for my house, and for the dragons...and for Korb"__

Although to Sigligon her world felt so small now, she couldn't help but also feel it had grown larger as well, she had to carry on the work her father had toiled to painfully to achieve, to build his dream and make it a reality, and she swore that day that she would see it done, one day she would return the dragons to their rightful place and serve her King or Queen as best as she could, she swore it from this day to her last.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I hope you are liking these chapter so far, to those who gave Kudo's thank you so much! Thank you also for the kind reviews, I am not always confident in my writing and reviews actually really help me get the motivation and confidence to keep going, so if you can please leave reviews, either good or bad any is fine. 
> 
> Feedback just lets me know someone cares. Once again thank you for reading and I hope you stay for more!


	13. Chapter 13 - Grief and Other Things -

The days following her fathers death were some of the hardest days of her life, Jovern was her everything to her, he cared for her like no other, listened to her like no other and loved her like no other, he was her family, he nursed her wounds when needed, sung her songs and read her stories. Sigligon knew that no matter what happened he would always be there for her, to guide her and give her the help she needed.

Now her world was shattered, all too sudden she was wrenched from all that she knew and now she had to somehow pick up the pieces and carry on. There was too much that now landed on her and Korb's shoulders and tried as she did to pull her weight there was just no stopping the days when she did not want to leave the bed or the days when she did not want to do anything but roll over and fade back into the blackness of sleep. It was safe there, filled with memories of Jovern, in her dreams at least she did not have to confront the fact that he was gone.

There were Some mornings she would awake forgetting that he was gone and she would dress and run downstairs thinking he was there waiting for her sitting at his chair working on something or reading while he ate a quick breakfast before he would turn to her and exclaim "God morning my girl!" in his loud booming voice that seemed to shake the whole house before he would stand and kiss her forehead leaving to go outside and tend to his duties.

But no matter how heart-wrenching it was or how soul-crushing it felt to live in a world without him there, it was his duties that forced both Korb and Sigligon out of bed in the mornings and made them drag themselves back in at night. Jovern's passing left large shoes to fill, and it took both of them working harder than ever to fill them. They did not get the privilege of being able to mourn for him properly instead they had a short and pitiful funeral on the beach where a few tearful farewells were said as an effigy of him was burned.

Siglgion remembered standing on that beach tears stingy her eyes as she stuttered out her eulogy telling him how much she loved him and how much she still needed him and wished that he would come back to them for without him she was lost. She pleaded with the gods that night begged them to bring him back, she promised she would sacrifice a goat every day in their honor for the rest of her life if needed, she promised so many things but if the gods heard her they did not answer.

It was soon learned all too painfully by both her and Korb that when a person dies life still continues, it does not stand still or wait till you are ready. There was no warning or ways to control it, life was like the ocean tide, at first it would come in and tickle your toes promising only good and safe things but then as time would pass it would come in faster and harder taking with it more and more footing from beneath you with it's constant and ebb and flow, and either you had to be strong enough to stand and plant yourself firmly in the ground beneath you and fight away from the current or surrender to it and let yourself be carried far away with no hope to return.

Sigligon decided that was not going to surrender nor was she ever going to, no matter how wretched her life was without Jovern or how hopeless she felt she had to hold out, she had to be strong. Korb needed her and so did the dragons, she was the last of her line she HAD to survive. If felt like a constant uphill battle at times what with pen's needing cleaning, animals needed feeding, the garden needed to be watered, the dragons needed to be fed. It was one thing after another and days seemed to blur into one another in the following weeks after Joverns death In ways it was helpful, being so overburdened with tasks to the point one could not breathe, that way you did not have time to think or weep.

However as time went on, their new rhythm's fell into place, mornings would come when she did not look for her father downstairs, nor did she call out for his help when she needed. There were some nights she remembered to not set a place for him at the table and there were times when she did not turn to search for him to taste her newest food creation. Each hour and each day continued on and each moment marked another moment she lived in a world without him and was surviving.

 Weeks would bleed into months and his memory and presence in the house were disappearing, slowly his items were taken to his room, the door then shut to keep them out of mind, not out of spite but out of love and wanting to have a place for all his items to rest in peace. The pain in both of their hearts mended over time, instead of looking back on his memory in sadness, they would do it out of fondness, remembering stories he would say, or songs he would sing, Joven may not have been there but he still remained in different ways, forever etched in the confines of their hearts.

* * *

 

Months bled into years and life moved on in a rather simple pattern, in spring they would help the ewe's birth and till the garden for planting. They would clean the house, fix fences, take stock of the larder and do all that needed to be done to survive. In summer they would work tending the growing plants in the garden and watching over the flocks. In between all this they would fine-tune their abilities, Korb practicing as much as he could with Sigligon with his sword, although Sigligon would never be considered better than average with a sword she excelled with her bow and eventually found a weapon of choice that suited her needs more so than sword, she preferred fighting with a staff, however she designed one that was not just a simple stick it was thicker and on either end had a sharpened hook which allowed her to hook items such as Korb's sword out of his hands or take out Korb's feet from under him.

Thanks to her staff she was also able to hook onto tall items such as tree branches and pull herself up unto them. Throughout the years they also kept to their studies, keeping up with learning the Valyrian language and using their abilities to translate as many texts as they could. Sigligon worked late most nights mastering alchemical reagents or designing a new concept for a tool or weapon, most of the latter never made it past drawings on parchment but some she managed to make into real tools.

Her first grand project was building a carriage, one that would have a small alcove for beds, but also had the ability to have the walls be extended outwards to make more room, making a carriage fit 3x the amount of space in one. It took several months of work but eventually, it was created, it took her several more months after to make adjustments where needed for it to truly fit their needs.

Another project that she ended up doing, one that she got the idea for after seeing some ancient drawings in one of the few books they had from old Valyria was the idea for dragon saddles. The saddles were needed, for through the years after Jovern's death the dragons had grown larger still, and having so many in such space made for cramped skies to fly in. It was then decided between Korb and her that the dragons needed to be allowed to fly in a larger space, however concerns of being spotted and also concerns of losing the dragons were argued over, but eventually, they agreed but only in the early morning or late evening, and only one dragon out at a time.

First came figuring out how to get the dragons out of their 'cage' The thought of cutting or breaking the ancient chains overhead was out of the question, so after many hours of reassuring and trust building they managed to lead Mele through the large stone door and cave that sat at the top of the valley where the lift was. It was a tense couple of minutes for Sigligon as she sat on Mele's back but when he was up in the air and realized how free he was he soared as high as he could go, the air growing colder and thinner for Siglgion until finally he closed his wings and descended at such speeds Sigligon had to muster all her strength to stay strapped into the saddle prototype.

However, despite how free and elated Mele was he still would heed Sigligon's commands, he could sense that she did these things to protect him and he trusted her. In fact they shared a bond deeper than she had to any of the other dragons, she had always favorited her Red King but now it seemed to go beyond that, sometimes it felt as if she was the leader to all these great beasts, at any moment they could snap her up in their jaws or burn her but they didn't. Sigligon knew she was no Targaryen but perhaps it was the distant Blackfyre blood from her grandmother, Jovern had claimed his mother was a pureblood so maybe that little amount mattered?

After the first few free flights outside their home Siglgion finally figured out what straps worked and what didn't work on her dragon saddles, and when they could muster the gold they would go and buy as much leather as possible so that she could construct them all, making tweaks when needed. The years despite the loss of Jovern were kind to them and their home. The dragons flourished, not once did they show signs of sickness or weakness however the only thing missing from their lives was their rightful King.

Siglgion remembered Jovern telling them about how soon after King Robert had taken King's Landing there was a terrible storm, and during that storm on the small rocky island of Dragonstone the   ancestral home of the Targaryen's, Queen Rhealla gave birth to a Princess, a girl who was named Daenerys Targaryen the Stormborn, shortly after however the Queen passed away. Sigligon remembered her father was solemn that night sitting in his chair and staring into the fire, Queen Rhealla was the rightful monarch and her death meant House Targaryan fell onto the young shoulders of Prince Viserys and now the newborn babe Daenerys.

After the storm, the Prince and Princess fled across the sea and there they were paraded from Noble house to Noble house until apparently the notoriety of the last Targaryen's faded, Siglgion remembered whispers of the crown prince being called the 'Beggar Prince' in Essos and she had felt sad for him and Daenerys, trapped a world away hated and detested for who their father was, to Siglgion it did not seem fair and she hoped like her father and Korb that the Prince would return to retake his birthright and the Targaryen's would rule again once more.

But the years continued to march onwards and with it, the Targaryen's faded from most everyone's mind, King Robert and his family were all the news talked about. He was a terrible King, preferring to drink and hunt than rule, and his Queen-a Lannister-seemed to not care at all about the Kingdom, the first few years were good, a steady supply of gold from the war and riches to be had, even a Prince was born to them, Joffery was the child's name, he was said to have a golden head of hair that was said to be like a crown.

But as years went by so did the gold, soon taxes were raised, tariff's placed, wherever gold could be had it was taken. But no matter how loud the protest none could draw attention from either the great stag or the golden lioness, in fact, they seemed to ignore the people and instead entertained nobles, and of course each other for a Princess and another Prince were born to the King and Queen.

Forever it seemed to Siglgion, how long would Prince Viserys wait? Did he not want his throne back? What if he never came to take it? When she questioned Korb on the possibility Korb shook his head and told her it would not come to that. Years more they waited, growing from young teenager to adults, living in seclusion awaiting the arrival of their Prince, but that day would never come for events began to transpire all the while they lived in ignorant peace, and it all started a day when the bells of the great sept rang out, signaling the death of Sir Jon Arryn and the events that followed thereafter; Sigligon swore had to come from a storybook.

 


	14. Chapter 14 -Freedom-

_Several Years Later_

* * *

 

Sigligon stood in the living area of the home that she had occupied for so many years, the thought of leaving it now scared her. It was here she had so many memories from her first time raising young hatchlings to teaching Korb to read along with the countless lively nights of singing and dancing after supper to the quiet soft nights of reading and contemplation till now. Here she stood for what could be the last time finding solace in its overhanging silence as she silently said goodbye.

She turned to her brother, Korb now a full grown man, he stood tall and confident, his sharp cheekbones highlighted his face, while his still piercing ice blue eyes gazed at her in warmth and knowing. His once shaggy brown hair had lightened out to a dirty blonde and he kept it long now, tying it back into a simple tail. He wore simple light armor as well as a long red cloak one that matched her own. Reaching up she secured her three-headed dragon pin, one of the few things of her fathers she dares wear. From its likeness, she had made one for Korb as well.

Korb's hand rested on the Valyrian steel sword that was her fathers, she never knew its name nor ever asked but Korb eventually named it 'DragonsFang.' On each of their backs was strapped their bow's and for Sigligon she saw her staff from the corner of her eye leaning against the nearby pillar. "It now begins," Korb said punctuating the silence with his tenuous tone. Sigligon nodded to him before giving him a small smile. "Everything we have worked for, all those years, all the things we have sacrificed and now....our Queen is here"  Sigligon felt a warmth fill her, if Jovern had been here he would be so proud and happy, in some way she knew that wherever he was he was looking down on them and she imagined he was smiling.

"Last I heard" Korb began breaking Sigligon from her thoughts. "She is heading towards Winterfell, to join the 'King in the North,' Jon Snow." Siglgion nodded but furrowed her brow "Yes...to fight the dead?" Korb shrugged "That is what I have heard, an army of dead, apparently they even brought one with when they negotiated with Cercei" Korb spat her name, Siglgion understood all too well his hatred, in the years they found out that the true monster on the Iron Throne was not the King but the Queen.

There was no end to what was said about her, and she and Korb had heard most if not all that was said. When he went to King Landing to sell and buy he also listened and reported all back to her. Now here they stood both in their 25th year, the prime of their life and only now were they leaving to do what they were sworn to do. Sigligon studied Korb, he had leaned down to pick up one of the last remaining boxes of supplies to load into the cart. She remembered how he had to all but sit on her to stop her from leaving right away when she heard that her Queen, Daenerys Targaryen, the last of the royal family had landed on dragonstone, Siglgion wanted to fly there right away, but Korb talked sense into her, instead they bided their time until it was right.

Now it seemed that going to meet her when she needed them and the dragons most. To help bolster her own dragons, a fact that Siglgion had made her all but weep for joy when she heard the news that this Targaryen had the skill and the know-how to not only care for the dragons but to hatch them as well. Siglgion of course already knew the way to hatch eggs, but for someone to figure out on instinct with no guidance? Nearly impossible and yet Daenerys had done this miraculous thing. That being said Sigligon walked over to a final chest, tracing a hand delicately over its aged oak wood.

She opened it once more to make sure all the contents were secure, knowing that this gift would be most welcome and would help cement their claims, for she knew how hard it would be for Daenerys to learn of her and Korb's existence as well as that and four large and grown dragons. A scream made her jump as she turned to Tikoros, son of Tikos the falcon that Korb had rescued when he was a boy. Tikoros was as fast and as intelligent as his mother if not even more and Korb was in the process of attempting to capture him a mate before winter hit, but then the new fs their Queen's arrival changed those plans.

Siglgion walked over to Tikoros and scratched his chest, loving the feeling of his feathers beneath her fingers, he was much softer and more delicate than dragons and she loved the way his eyes closed as he enjoyed the scratches. She heard the footsteps of Korb behind her and she turned to grin at him. Korb gave her a lopsided grin before lifting Tikoros to his shoulder where the bird rested, gripping onto the thick leather guard that was strapped there.

"I shall head out now, when I have found a place to camp that is secluded I will send Tikoros back with the coordinates....are you sure you can fly them all by yourself?" Korb asked motioning outside to where the dragons were, most likely curled up sleeping in the large open lean-to that had taken three summers to build. Sigligon nodded "I will fly Old One, where she goes they will follow." she said assuredly. Korb still looked uneasy. "But shouldn't we leave her here?" Siglgion shook her head "It is too late for that, we sold off most of the cattle and goats, only a few remain, if we did not return she would starve...it is better to take her."

Korb nodded giving in. "You are right," he said finally turning and studying the room. Sigligon pointed to the chest "We need that, load it carefully" she stressed eyeing him. Korb waved her off and lifted the chest bracing it against his hip and carrying it with one arm like one would straddle a small crying child. Sigligon glared at him "That is the Queen's gift! It is fragile if it is broken when we get there-" "What you'll feed me to Old One?" Korb asked grinning from ear to ear. Sigligon could not reply for he gave her a kiss on the cheek and headed towards the door.

Briefly, she felt anxiety well up inside her. Were they forgetting something? But Korb must have sensed this and turned to her "Your not forgetting anything and stop worrying, our Queen awaits, expect Tikoros by dusk."

Siglgion nodded but before Korb could turn to leave Sigligon dashed forward and grabbed his arm. Looking into his confused eyes she whispered "It's not goodbye" a flash of understanding crossed his face and he nodded giving her a grin "It's not goodbye" before winking one last time and leaving her standing in the doorway feeling as empty as the house that she stood in. She watched Korb load the last items into the wagon and clicked for the horses- a new pair, these ones were white in color, one the color of snow, the other to her looked more like milk. They were named Moonlight and StarDancer and they pulled the cart with practiced ease, Siglgion had designed it to distribute weight as evenly as possible, it also allowed for sharper turns, and with the addition of special springs, the wagon could go over rugged terrain without shattering everything inside of it.

She waved goodbye to Korb and she sat and watched him disappear up the hill and unto the lift, she watched it rise up and then it vanished entirely as Korb left their valley for what could be the last time. Siglgion walked over to the goat pen's, they had butchered most and kept a few of the younger ewe's and kids, as well as three Buck's, they left them as much forage and food as possible, in hopes they could survive the winter without need of them, she wished them good luck and continued her way down the path to the dragon's stable.

The 'Stable' was an overly large barn, great in height that had only three sides, the floor was made of flat rocks and Siglgion had dug small tunnels underneath so that heat from the furnace could run under the rocks and keep them heated. She based it off the idea of the natural hot spring that was in the near back of Old One's cave. Sigligon could make out the familiar large lumps that were the dragons, all huddled amongst one another relishing in the heat and company. Old One had even abandoned her cave choosing instead to take the newer and better heating source as well as to remain with her 'children' as the oldest and largest she ruled the roost so any disagreements were settled by her.

Sigligon decided to let them sleep for a little while longer before saddling them all, the saddles were next to the heat source allowing them to warm up so when they flew tonight the dragons should at least stay warm. Dragons could withstand cold for their natural heat kept them well and alive in even the coldest of winters but it still could be uncomfortable for them, so Sigligon chose to over prepare than under prepare.

Siglgion occupied her time by finishing packing and repacking which items she would bring. She would ride Old One but Mele and Kasta could carry some of her supplies while she did so. Deciding that healing herbs and medical poultices would be a good thing to have in war she packed that as well as any book she could find on healing, one book in particular 'Cleansing the Flame; the studies of Dragonic properties and how they can heal Vol. 1' seemed to Sigligon like a good book to have, she remembered skimming through a few chapters once, but decided against delving further since most of the ingredients called for organs from dragons which were something she could not obviously harvest, but there were some recipes that only called for the blood and saliva which could prove useful.

Once she had packed everything she needed, extra clothing, healing items, additional supplies for arrows and tools for leatherworking and wood crafting she decided to return outside and begin preparing the dragons for their flight. Donning her red cloak made from dyed wool and sheepskin she pulled her bright red hair back into several braids that all connected at the back of her head and trailed down her neck. Realized she forgot her ingredients for her hair cleanser she ran upstairs and grabbed it from atop her dresser, taking one glance look around the room she shivered from the cold and shut the door.

Continuing down the hall she stopped one last time at her fathers' room. Easing open the door she took a deep sigh as she stared at its contents. They had not done much over the years save from cleaning every now and then, his papers on his desk still lay strewn all over, although the quills and shriveled and the inkwells had dried up, his scent also was so faint she could scarcely pick it up, only when she closed her eyes and concentrated could she do it.

"We're headed out father, our Queen has returned....she is in Winterfell...I guess old Gauld was right with her storytales of giants and direwolves." She smiled faintly as she talked to the empty air, her voice echoing in the room. "I hope you are a proud...father," she said finally before turning and closing the door with a prominent thud. Slowly she descended the steps, taking care to run her hand over the smooth walls worn away by her and Korbs fingers as they had traced them whenever they ascended or descended the steps.

Making sure no fire was lit, Sigligon hurriedly gathered what items she could and in a few trips she had brought all she needed from the house down to where the dragons slept. Each time the harsh winter air bit at her nose and cheeks and she had to scrunch her toes in her boots to keep blood flow to them, she wrapped her cloak up tightly around her and on the last trip out the door she paused for only a moment before looking at the now dark and still house, the way it had been all those years ago when they had first arrived; she took a studying gaze and with a tear in her eye she said "It's not goodbye" she turned closing the door with an indefinite shut while her tear froze to her cheek.

Down the path she went trudging through the snow it crunched beneath her feet when she looked around her all she saw was a perpetual blanket of snow, covering the land with its icy grip, making everything there look harsher and bleaker than it was. Her apple trees were black contorted figures with sharp claws for branches that swayed in the wind, the cliffs around her rose up higher than before and threatened to come alive to swallow her whole.

But nothing could be said for the eerie quietness that surrounded her, every noise seemed muffled, there was a constant sound of snowflakes falling and hitting the denser layer of snow on the ground, giving off tiny popping sounds. She sighed, her breath coming out in a thick fog which made her giggle for it was if she was a dragon breathing smoke. She turned to tell this to Korb but then realized that he was not there and she was alone.

Glancing up to the bleak gray sky she attempted to guess what time of day it was, but due to the thick cloud coverage, she surmised she had better luck wooing a dragon. Speaking of dragons she pushed all thought from the mind and set herself to the task of getting the dragon saddles unto the dragons.

It took several years to buy and tan enough hides to make all four saddles but she had made them extra large and with additional room for when the dragons grew, in about ten or so years she might have to start the process all over again but she decided that was for an older Siglgion to worry about and not her at this moment.

The saddles were large things, with four large straps dangling and trailing as Siglgion walked over to Meledārys. Mele saw her coming and greeted her with a throaty chuff before positioning himself for her to place the saddle on his back. The saddles were designed to sit nestled where the neck and back met. Three of the large straps wrapped around the dragon's chest while a fourth was placed more on the base of the dragons neck, two smaller thinner straps came down and around where his wings met with his body, running under the wings they then attached back on the saddle.

This made the saddle secure and because of the leather, it was mobile enough to move with the dragon and did not weigh too heavily on them. The seat of the saddle was much like a horses saddle, a taller back to keep one's seat easier, while a pommel rose up with a small crossbar. Siglgion also added additional straps that would go around one's legs and hook to the saddle, however, these straps had an easy release mechanism in case one needed to dismount quickly.

Once the task of saddling Mele was done she stepped back to admire her work, nodding to herself she turned to saddle the rest of the dragons. The dragons seemed content to have their warmed saddles placed on them. Mele even purred when the saddle was placed on him. She couldn't help but smile and give him attention. She waited for Tikoros there in the dragon stable amongst the heat and company of the dragons for a few hours, nearly falling asleep from the heat and boredom before she heard the familiar screeching.

She glanced up an out and saw a shape hurtling towards her. She knew right away it was Tikoros. She ran outside into the snow and held up her arm bunching up a large amount of fabric on it so she was able to hold him without his talons digging into her flesh.

When Tikoros who was battered by snow and ice landed on her arm she immediately cocooned the bird and fed him some warmed meat and gave him water from her drinking flask. Wrapping the bird up in some cloth she dried him off as best as she could before removing the message that Korb had written in Valyrian no less, his intricate and neat handwriting put hers to shame, whereas she had no time to be neat due to her always rushing to get her ideas down on the page.

He explained where he was and what to do.

' _North on the King's road just pass Brindlewood and just before Ivy Inn, there is a large oak tree that stands out from the forest around it I am a mile east of it, look for a campfire'_

Sigligon gulped, it was her turn, she was surprised Korb had made it so far, but knowing with the snow few would be on the road and Korb knew when to work a horse and rest a horse. She whistled for Mele and Kasta who could sense something important was happening, both dragons came to her, she began to load them up with supplies dividing the piles evenly between them both but knew that this weight was nothing for either of them.

Now at 18 years of age, they were full grown, at least for the most part since a dragon never truly stopped growing, they would grow in small amounts over their entire lifespan, depending on environmental factors such as food, weather, and space. In the wild, they most likely would have been bigger, but here at the Roost on a controlled diet and limited space their wingspan only reached 200 feet in total length and their heads were now the size of draft horses. Despite their size, Siglgion loved them as if they were still the hatchling from long ago.

When Mele and Kasta were loaded Siglgion turned to Old One. She placed a hand on Old One's enormous muzzle. Old One was nearly 200 years old so her size was almost double theirs, she could even possibly be larger than Balerion the Black but being that she was female Sigligon would guess that Belerion was still the larger.

"We are leaving this place," She said softly, Old One's ancient eyes flickered to catch hers as the dragon studied her. "We are going somewhere cold, but it is important that we do this" She continued. Leaning in closer her voice barely a whisper she added: " I need you to be strong for this...you will now be able to fly free and leave this place." Sigligon said studying Old One's face. The aged dragon blinked slowly, she may have been old but her eyes shone brightly and with energy.

Sigligon leaned down and grabbed her staff securing it on her back as she clambered up on Old One's back. Over the years she had ridden all the dragons both inside the valley and outside, she even would go fishing with the dragons on occasion guiding them to a secluded part in the sea and have them dive into the sea after fish with her still on their back. When she had made herself comfortable in Old One's saddle she guided her out of the stable and in a few small leaps Old One gathered the necessary speed to vault into the air. Sigligon could hear the rest of the dragons follow behind them.

They neared the exit on the top of the cliff that overlooked the valley. Above her head hung the ancient chains that had protected and trapped them for so long. Sigligon studied the sections before deciding on a length nearby. Guiding Old One over to it she pointed up at the chain and with a stern voice she yelled out "zālagon"! which meant burn in High Valyrian. Old One hesitated for a moment, in fact, all the dragons did, they were so used to staying away from the chains and minding them the thought of harming them caused confusion.

But when Sigligon brought out her bow and fired an arrow at the chain, causing a metallic clang to ring out all while yelling "zālagon" with rigidity the dragons understood. Old One rose back on her hind legs Siglgion could hear her massive lungs take in a large breath of air and then in a high pitch white-hot flames shot out from her massive jaws engulfing the chain that Sigligon had previously struck.

The heat caused Siglgion to glance away, but she relished in it due to the fact that the icy wind had made her cheeks go numb. The chains were built to withstand Dragonfire, but they were old and not strong enough to stand against four dragons breathing their own unique fires, Mele with his red and gold flames, Kasta with his blueish green and Rhealla with her purple fire melted the chain within seconds.

One by one they burned a hole through the network of chains and when there was a hole big enough she called for them to cease. The dragons looked to her studying her with their intelligent eyes. Repositioning herself she placed hands on Old One's spines "sōvegon" she said to Old One, and Tempimere the daughter of Belerion the Black dread, the last of the ancient Targaryen dragons flew free into the dimming nighttime sky, her white body blending in with the white gray backdrop of winters night.

* * *

 

Higher and Higher they rose into the sky, the icy cold wind stung Sigligons face, but her scarf kept her relatively warm, the heat from Old One kept her hands and body warm as well. She glanced to Tikoros who was swaddled in several furs and lay strapped to Old One's saddle he seemed to be happy to let others do the flying for him. They flew high up in the sky so that those below if they did happen to look up would only see strange birds or shadows. Sigligon glanced around her as they broke cloud coverage, the moon and stars shone down brightly lighting up the sky in indescribable beauty, it was so calm and serene up here that she wished she could stay up here forever.

The light rolled off the clouds making it look as if the clouds beneath her were a field of diamonds. Suddenly dancing lights appeared high above them near the heavens, they flickered and shone in multitudes of colors, from red's and greens to yellows and gold, it took her breath away and here she was the only person in the world seeing this. The lights reminded her of a bridge and briefly, she wondered if that were a bridge that linked heaven and earth and perhaps if she squinted she might see Jovern standing there waving for her.

She tore her eyes from the lights she had to figure out where she was headed. Ushering Old One into a quick decent Old One closed her wings around her body and fell quickly free falling, Sigligon had been aback dragons for so long this heart-pounding stomach turning move did nothing to her, instead she sat braced against the screeching of the wind as it roared in her ears and almost tore away her clothing.

To the sides of her she could see Kasta and Mele, each, in turn, keeping up with Old One, Sigligon braced for when Old One would open her wings abruptly and violently stopping their speedy decent by gliding aloft in the air. When Old One did this, Sigligon turned to see Rhealla following behind at a short distance. Rhealla had not as of yet hit a growth spurt, females take longer to grow so her wings were smaller and although she was lighter she did not have the speed of Mele and Kasta.

Sigligon gazed down at the land below. Westeros sprawled out before her as far as the eye could see. Briefly, she felt small and very alone, how on earth would she find Korb? Taking a spyglass from her saddlebag she looked for a telltale marker of the King's Road, basing it off of where Kings Landing sat in the far distance clouded by fog she figured out that the snaky bright object that she had thought was a river, was, in reality, the road she was looking for.

After that she knew thanks to the long hours of mesmerizing maps of Westeros, she knew that Heyford Castle would be next, spotting a large looming castle in the distance she guessed that was it, taking time to fly around it she continued on to her next landmarks Brindlewood a small village that lies just beyond that. After some time of gliding, Sigligon could faintly spot the village, happily, she obliged to let Old One set the pace. Around her Kasta and Mele were circling about happy to be free and fly, every so often Sigligon would look back at Rhealla who kept a steady pace with them.

If the dragons were tired none ever gave any sign's after they had passed Brindlewood Sigligon knew that Ivy Inn would be next so she kept a sharp eye out for the outline of a large oak tree, deciding that as it was very late in the night she risked taking the dragons even lower so she could see better. She fought back a yawn and shook herself, even with the cold wind biting her face she still found herself getting sleepy. She began to furiously scour the gray and white landscape beneath her, she hoped and prayed that she would not pass over the landmark, Old One seemed to sense her agitation and flew slower, taking time to glide in small circles at times.

Just as Sigligon was about to lose hope she saw it, a massive Oak tree standing alone in a field of its own standing apart from the forest nearby. She guided Old One east as if heading towards Sow's Horn. She flew the dragons even closer to the ground now their bellies just barely touching the tops of the tree's when in the distance she saw the fire. Elated she urged Old One faster She heard Mele let our a roar, she giggled the dragons seemed to be excited at the flame as well.

As they neared she urged Old One to break through the forest taking down dry branches and trees as she did. With loud crashing and thundering snow and twigs were sent flying while trees were cast aside without a second thought. Sigligon had tucked herself close to Old On'es back as they landed and once she felt the sudden stagger of Old One she knew she was okay to dismount excitedly she jumped down the prospect of seeing Korb once more thrilled her.

When she landed she brushed herself off and strode to the fire, but something was wrong, there were two tents, ones that she did not recognize and nearby a string of horses that were now panicking in fear screaming into the night.

She heard gruff angry voices and men began to spill out from the tents, half asleep they stumbled grabbing at swords they barked out orders in confusion. Sigligon stood there frozen Old One put her head near Sigligon and gave a small growl.

A man who was about Korb's age turned in their direction. He squinted when he saw Sigligon. Sigligon not knowing what to do or say remained still. The man took two steps towards her but then seemed to notice the large white dragon next to her and he went whiter than the snow around them, a squeaky voice escaped his throat as he attempted to yell.

Still paralyzed with confusion Sigligon attempted to speak but before she could the man found his voice "D..dragon Queen! Kill her! It's Daenerys!" Sigligon was flabberghasted, she was no Queen? She didn't even have silver hair or violet eyes for that matter. But She heard a familiar sound of a loud 'thwack' as an arrow embedded itself in a tree near her. Suddenly her survival skills kicked in. Ducking she grabbed her bow. There were maybe 8 men, all of them now were grouping up across from her.

Some of them stared at her in horror, others confusion.  Sigligon knocked an arrow as fast as she could with her frozen fingers. Aiming for a nearby man, an older gentleman with a scraggly salt and peppered beard she brought her bow up and then released making sure her hand stayed up near her cheek so as to not accidentally let go of any of the power she had built behind the arrow. The arrow flew true and found her target, burying itself in the man's eye. One of the men roared in anger and charged her, his shield down and sword pointed towards her. Sigligon backed up she did not have time to knock her arrow and aim, it was only a few seconds before that sword would be plunged through her chest.

Time moved slow for her and before she could do or say anything to Old One a figure came barreling out of the trees beside her. She jumped sideways falling into the snow as she did, rolling she pushed herself up just in time to see Korb on top of one of the cart horses charged into battle. With ease he brought his sword down on the charging man's head effectively splitting it in two, with a gush of blood and brains Korb pulled his sword from the man and turned his horse to the rest of them, ducking under an arrow he leaped off his horse slapping her butt as he did he charged the 6 remaining men who were startled by this sudden intruder and were still recovering over the fact that a dragon stood a few feet away from them.

Sigligon watched as Korb attacked, his blade shining in the firelight he easily used his great strength to break through one of the smaller men's guard plunging his sword through the man's belly, the man shrieked a horrifying animal cry as his blood and intestines flowed out of the gaping hole in his stomach, the man fell over feebly clutching at his guts before mercifully dying shortly thereafter.

The five remaining men formed a small group, they stared at Korb this mysterious man that had rode in on a white plow horse to only slaughter two men within seconds. Sigligon took her chance, now that she was standing and no longer confused she shifted into the attack mode, knocking three arrows she drew her bow and fired them consecutively hitting her main target a large armored man with a great sword, her first arrow buried itself in his cheek, the next grazed his ear, and the very last struck his throat dead center and he let out a garbled choke as blood welled up from his mouth and flooded from his neck, it gushed out, pulsing with his own panicked heartbeat.

The man fell to his knees clutching at this throat, a look of confusion and pain filling his wide eyes. Korb quickly put the man out of his misery by cleanly parting the man's head from his neck. At this time the remaining men realized this was not a fight worth having and turned to run. Korb yelled at them and Sigligon was already aiming to hit the one's legs when a loud roar could be heard from above and a swirling torrent of blue-green fire engulfed the group of men, Sigligon heard their painful cries be cut short all the while the pungent scent of burning flesh filled her nostrils it made her gag, although she had smelled burnt animal flesh before, realized that the scent she was smelling was human sickened her, enemy or no burning was no way to die.

Suddenly all was quiet in the clearing, only the sound of petrified horses and the crackling of fire could be heard. Sigligon watched Korb's figure shadowed by the firelight. Korb turned slowly his eyes dark, blood splattered across his face.

His eyes darted to hers, glowering he roared "What were you thinking? Flying in all foolishly like that!" so sudden and ferocious was his anger it startled her. He stomped his way through the snow towards her. His eyes darkened by his anger sword drawn and fire illuminating made him a very sinister figure, so much so she grabbed onto Old One, who despite knowing Korb growled at Korb in warning making him stop in his tracks.

Korb's eyes widened and glanced to Sigligon then to the sword he held, quickly he sheathed it and put up his hands. "I am sorry Sigi...I just...the thought of you getting hurt..." his voice wavered, grief filling his eyes. Sigligon nodded understanding, she patted Old One once, letting her know it was okay and she was safe.

Sigligon stepped forward, taking Korb in an embrace. "You were right, I wasn't thinking,” she said softly looking up into his eyes. “I was just tired and so excited to see you I didn't think." Korb gave a small smile and put a hand to her cheek, taking a deep sigh he nodded. "I know, I know we will have to come up with a system so this doesn't happen again" he added placing his hands on Sigligon's shoulders to comfort her.

They embraced for a few moments. Siglgion realized that she was shaking. This was the second time she had seen men die, and her first time killing one. The thought made her sick to her stomach. She fought down the urge to retch as she parted from Korb. Korb gave her a knowing look of understanding, he turned to the dead men that lie tangled in bloody messes in the snow. "Keep turned away, I will take care of them," he said quietly.

At first, Siglgion was all too happy to let him, but she hesitated and shook her head. "No, it is time I understood, I can't be protected forever." Korb sighed but consented and they both worked together dragging the men's bodies armor and all out into the woods, when all of the bodies had been gathered, They placed the swords of the fallen men straight into the ground to mark their grave before dragging a few pine branches and snow over top of them as some form of cover. Siglgion said a quick prayer for them.

The blank staring eyes gazed up into the darkness and at times Siglgion felt them staring into her soul. She shuddered and turned away. They returned back to the camp the soldiers had set up. The ten horses that were strung up were still spooked so it took Korb a long while to calm them down.

While Korb calmed the horses, Siglgion searched through the tents, both were mostly barren, just small two-man tents with simple bedrolls, an extra bag of clothing or armor and weapons but other than that not much, in the largest of the tents the one Siglgion presumed was their leader was a small travel writing desk. It was a simple contraption a large flat board to write upon with a small notch for an inkwell to sit, the board would open up like a trunk and underneath the writing, space was a small area to store letters and parchments and other items of the sort.

Siglgion glanced at a random letter, the seal was the same crest as what was on the men’s armor. A salmon on a white field. Siglgion mulled over for a few seconds closing her eyes she tried to remember who’s the house that Sigil was, there was so many and during instruction by her father she would end up daydreaming. After some brain wracking she came up with a name Mooton? She thought to herself, the lord of Maidenpool she was sure, it made sense with the fish.

They were servants to the Queen Cersei so they were their enemies or at least their Queen’s enemies. The read through the letters they held little information, basic events that had transpired on the road, sightings of Targaryen forces, which was the norm, however, one letter mentioned a crazed northern man they had taken captor, one who spoke of dead men walking and the long night was upon us.

A cold dagger forced its way down her spine. The stories had to be true then if her Queen was going North and now all these reports, it had to be. Why else would events be transpiring the way they were? Siglgion put the letters back into the desk. She stood up and turned to see Korb in the doorway of the tent. “The horses are calmed for now, but…what should we do with them? It’s winter there isn’t much for forage, and we can’t take them with…cant take them to sell anywhere near here.”

Siglgion mulled it over although she hated animals suffering she knew that the horses would be better to have a quick painless death vs suffering for months. She turned back to Korb and walked over to him. Looking up into his eyes he matched him with cool resolve. “We have four dragons to feed, save two of the strongest for replacements on the road, the rest we slit their throats and give to the dragons.”

Korb was saddened by this but understood. “Yes, you are right.” the both of them exited the tent and walked to the line of horses, Korb looked them all over in the firelight. Siglgion tried not to look at them to close, she did not want to remember them, two of the horses Korb picked to be the strongest, the rest were all taken and led to where the dragons were now standing.

In a small grove of tree’s the dragons sat huddled against each other against the cold. For a moment they looked scared like a clutch of small chicks bracing against each other. But when they saw the horses they took a renewed interest. Siglgion held the reigns of the first two horses, she closed her eyes as Korb drew his blade. What happened next only the tree’s and stars overhead could witness.

 


	15. Chapter 15 - Journey -

The days of travel that followed thereafter were a blur to Siglgion, sleeping by day and being awake at night caused the days for her to bleed into one massive long night for her. This travel was hard not only on them but the dragons and horses too, although the dragons seemed all the willing to fly she could tell this was beginning to affect them as well. Korb’s face was slowly becoming gaunter, gone were the days of warm full meals, his meals now consisted of hardtack, bread, and a few other vittles. She two was experiencing exhaustion, some nights when she awoke to the moon it felt as if she had not slept at all.

But press on they did, no matter how cold or how terrible it seemed they had a goal in mind a goal that drove them to ignore all the bodily pains. The further North they went the more the wind blew, the more the snow fell, and the more hopeless and quiet it became. Korb spoke in the small window of time they had before she would sleep and he would leave of how desolate and empty it felt, houses were shuttered, Inn’s and villages were empty and quiet. No one hardly spoke and no one laughed not even children, the only faces that met Korbs’ were solemn and empty ones.

The stories he heard got more and more wild and frightening as he went, stories of a Night King who controlled a 100,000 dead men, giants, mammoths, bears, an anything and everything else he could get his hands on. Tales of Jon Snow the King in the North, how he was the first to see these ‘White Walkers’ and their armies, the first to fight them, he was the first to bring Wildlings, a race of savage people who descended from the very first men or so it was said he was the first to bring them south and make allies of them.

It was also said he owned a white Direwolf and was said to turn into one as well but that was only stories, still, he sounded a rather impressive and imposing figure in Sigligon’s mind one that she attempted to picture. Tall, broad-shouldered with dark hair and eyes, a true Stark even if he was a bastard. Onward they went, moving until finally, they found a place to make camp one last time. It had taken Korb much searching but he found an area in the woods that were located a few miles south from Winterfell. Within these woods was an area surrounded by large tree laden hills, it was as if a large being had chosen this area to carve out a bowl within the forest.

Sigligon was pleased, they had parked the horses and cart near the top of the hill, while the four dragons were lazing about within the ‘bowl’ safe from sight and more importantly out of the wind and elements. The dragons were content for now with the last of the horse meat but Siglgion knew they would be hungry again soon. Siglgion sighed as she ran her eyes over all four of them scrutinizing them for any possible signs of weakness or illness.

They all seemed to be in good health, just exhausted from the trip. Which made her happy. She walked over to some nearby fallen trees and began to work out the next phase of the plan, but first, she needed to prepare for the most difficult challenge, leaving the dragons alone for a day or so.

She begun by gathering wood to build up three smaller fires, just enough to cast off some heat, where they were located no wind should be able to blow out any flame they build, so when the main fires were built she set up small inclined ramps that curved upwards, on the ramps was a line up of several logs, enough to feed a small fire for a day or so. The idea was as one log burned, the next log would roll down and feed itself into the fire, it was rather an ingenious method and glad she thought of it, although most likely others had come to this idea before her.

When she stocked the fires she turned to scan the treeline for Korb, but he still had not returned. So she turned herself to the next task at hand, walking over to a nearby log that they were using as a chair Siglgion plopped down, the seat was cold but at least it was dry. She grabbed her ingredients bag that lies nearby. Taking some time to sort through all the items within it, the packets of dried leaves, the random bundles of roots, vials of oil, all of them she jumbled through until she found what she was looking for a small dropper vial of a yellow gold liquid and a rather large small satchel of golden yellow petals.

She smiled to herself than glanced at the dragons. She squinted her eyes as she tried to guess just how large the dragons were and how much they weighed. Taking into consideration the cold as well as their ages, she came to the conclusion that ten drops of oil for Old One and six to the two boys and five for Rhealla, then several pinches of the petals as well. But first, she needed their dinner, as if cue she heard the snap of twigs, she snapped her head towards the impending sound. Kasta put his head up then nodding put it back down to continue to sleep. Sigligon rose up and saw Korb dragging a large pine branch behind him.

Using it like one would use a wagon, he had two small spike bucks, a medium boar and three large turkeys. Sigligon chose one of the birds for them to eat. Quickly they began to prepare the food, Sigligon plucked the feathers off the turkey than removed the guts, she threw them and the birds head to the dragons as a small snack. Korb placed the turkey on the spit after he had doused it with oil and a few spices. They worked wordlessly side by side, for so many years they had been together they had reached a point where words were useless instead they could work together as one unit to achieve a single goal.

Sigligon smiled to herself quietly as she studied Korb his large and imposing frame as he knelt down by the fire, making quick work of skinning the deer he had taken. He worked frowning in concentration, his eyes glaring down his sharp nose, on his shoulder sat Tikoros who churred and ‘talked’ to him. Every so often he would bring a small bit of meat to the bird's beak to eat. Eventually when both deer had been skinned Sigligon went to work stuffing handful's of the petals into the chest cavity's of the carcasses as well as into random folds of muscles.

The plant was called Talia plant, a yellow flower that grew all over Essos, mostly in dry grassland, but it was a very easy plant to grow and one could find beds of it in all Apothecary gardens, for the uses of the plant were numerous. The roots when boiled and removed would leave behind a waxy like water that when drank would help with headaches and muscle soreness. The steams when ground and mixed with water and honey could be made into a wax-like substance that when rubbed into the skin would detour insects from landing. One could also burn the steams and the smoke would choke out most insects as well.

The best quality however to Talia plant was the golden leaves, who when ingested gave a feeling of relaxation and reduced stress, as well as drowsiness if taken enough of. However, this property was increased tenfold when the leaves were pressed and refined into oil, the oil so potent a few drops would cause a person to sink into a deep slumber from which they never would awake from. These properties would also affect animals and dragons as well. So when they had prepared all the carcasses. Sigligon walked over to Old one with her vial, taking great care she stepped up near Old One’s head. Old One half opened an eye Sigligon knelt and softly but firmly slid a hand in-between the lips of the great dragon.

Old One halfheartedly opened her mouth, quickly Sigligon deposited the oil unto Old One’s tongue, it would take a bit for the oil to work. She patted Old One then rose and went to Kastamere than to Meledarays, finally she finished with Rhealla. Korb followed after her and dropped the different carcasses in front of different dragons. With the prospect of food, the dragons awoke in a small frenzy, igniting the meat and gobbling it down in little time.

Korb and she stood back watching them as they began to gnaw on some of the turkey that was cooked. When the dragons began to settle, their many yawns signaled to Sigligon that the Talia was beginning to take hold. One by one the dragons drifted off into a deep slumber, Sigligon tested this by yelling loudly for Mele to wake up but he did not stir. The Talia would keep them sedated long enough for her and Korb to do what they needed to earn Daenerys trust, just enough time to explain their situations, rather than dropping in unannounced on four dragons. The Talia was potent but the dragons could still wake if they needed. However, Sigligon hoped nothing would happen to cause it. It was a very risky and possibly deadly situation they were in but one that they had no choice, it had to be done.

She turned to Korb, glancing upwards to the sky she could tell it was mid-morning at the latest. Adjusting her cloak she walked over and began to pack up their campsite. Korb waited for her, leaning against a tree he stroked Tikoros gently on the chest and neck. Sigligon finished repacking her items and began to head towards the wagon. Korb let Tikoros into the air and the bird flew in wide circles around them as they mounted either side of the wagon. Sitting down Siglion realized this was the first time her and Korb would travel together on this journey.

Turning to him she mentioned, “This is the final stretch, can you believe we did it?” Korb gave her a small grin than wrapped an arm around her shoulders to give her a quick hug. “Honestly at this point, anything is possible.” Sigligon nodded as she rearranged herself to be comfortable in the wagon’s wooden seat. “Shall we go?” she asked him raising an eyebrow. Korb turned and gave one last look at the dragons, Sigligon followed this action.

It felt unnerving to be without them, too not know where they were but it was only for a day and it was something that had to be done. “We discussed this Korb, we have to do it this way.” Korb sighed and turned his eyes to the path, clicking he got the horses moving. The two spare horses they had kept walked on either side of Moonlight and StarDancer, one of the horses was a tall and athletic chestnut mare horse and the other was a black stallion who was a stout and powerful drestier, the perfect warhorse.

Off they went the ride rather pleasant thanks to Sigligon’s wagon. “Remind me again,” Korb asked bringing Sigligon from her thoughts. “How are we going to convince our Queen that all this is true?” Sigligons heart fluttered in her chest, that was the very same question she still didn’t have the exact answer to. Closing her eyes she calmed herself, ‘I got this, I know what I am doing’ she said to herself. “We will ask for an audience for one, we will say we are coming to swear fealty to her and her cause, then we will tell her who my family is and what we did.”

Korb stared at her his brow raised in contempt, his lips were a thin line. “So we are going to walk up in front of her court tell her we are a secret branch that served her family and our duty was to care, study and breed dragons, of which we have four of them just outside Winterfell?” Korb stated very obviously having some hesitations. “Not exactly like that,” Sigligon said under her breath. Korb breathed in and sighed “Well we have a few miles to go, how about we talk about it?” he asked her. Sigligon nodded “Very well we should do that then.” she nodded agreeing.

A moment of silence passed between them before Korb candidly said. “We cannot tell her of Kasta and the rest, she would never believe us, we will have to show her to them, that is the only way.” Sigligon nodded she figured as much. “We can ease her into the knowledge of them through” she added thoughtfully. “How?” Korb asked staring back at her he adjusted the horses' speed into a gentle trot. “What do you think I packed in the chest Korb?” Korb shrugged and waited for her reply his eyes blank, but then after a few beats his eyes lightened up, “You did not” he muttered under his breath, Sigligon grinned and nodded.

“Mother’s tits” he swore to himself before he glared out at the rode. “Just leave the talking to me” Sigligon added reaching back to grab a book from inside the wagon. “that’s what I am worried about,” Korb replied and with that, the two siblings made their way to Winterfell and to their Queen.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16 - Arrival -

_Winterfell, A few weeks Earlier_

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Daenerys Targaryen stood at the railing overlooking the courtyard at Winterfell. Watching as both the Northern men and her own men worked on the fortifications. The Dragonglass that the Northern forces had mined was used in nearly every way imaginable. Spikes on nearly all walls and flat surfaces. Dragonglass studded into all armor imaginable both men's and horse armor, weapons of Dragonglass galore everywhere she looked the dark volcanic rock was used in some way. 

Jon walked below with his Hand Sir Davos, beside him strode Samwell Tarly a portly man that Daenerys sadly had to confer to him that she herself had ordered his brother and father burned. She looked back on those memories and let out a soft sigh when she had seen the way that man's face looked as he held back tears asking to be excused, the way his face knitted in pain she had felt a pang of regret. She of all people should know how it feels to lose family and yet here she was causing even more pain and loss.

She shook it from her mind, she was here to rule she had given both Tarly's the chance to bend the knee, they chose their fate she could not show weakness not now, not after all she had worked to get here. She stared after Jon, his face in a constant grim scowl as he oversaw fortification. He was bundled up in a large black fur cape. She herself had no idea how he could walk about with such thick and heavy clothing on but when a gust of wind blew down her neck she found herself longing for such attire.

He walked at ease amongst his men, he did not hold himself above them, in fact, he would even stop and lend a hand when needed, he was a good leader she realized, he was loved and respected by his people it was no wonder he was made King. 'King' the word felt bittersweet on her tongue, she cared for Jon and his people but the fact that they were in open rebellion against the Iron Throne made her worry, she did not wish to kill Jon or his people but she was here to rule seven kingdoms, and the North was one of those, perhaps if she assisted the North the would, in turn, assist her and once again bend to the Iron Throne.

She ushered those thoughts aside, for now, she would have to be satisfied knowing that he had bent the knee for her, even though no other person knew. To the rest, they thought she was here as an equal ally if she helped them they would fight for her when she needed. That was the arrangement that was made known and for now, that was the arrangement they had. King Jon, Bastard House Stark, the White Wolf of Winterfell, Avenger of the Red Wedding, Friend of Wildlings, Former Commander of the Night's Watch his titles were almost equal to hers, it made it difficult for everyone having to address two "Your Graces" at the dining tables but so far all have adjusted.

Footsteps approached her from behind she turned her head to see a familiar face. Tyrion, her Hand, and advisor was known as the dwarf of House Lannister and yet here he was in Winterfell serving her and helping his families enemies. Tyrion approached a small smile on his lips. He walked up to her giving the slightest nod of his head to her. She turned back to continue her study of Jon. Tyrion stood against the rail his head just coming over it. For a moment Daenerys wished she could give him a stool to stand on but she knew that would be incredibly rude of her to suggest so she pursed her lips to keep them from uttering words.

Tyrion studied the scene before him with his gray-green eyes for a few seconds before commenting. "Preparations are coming along fine." She nodded agreeing. "Jon is a good leader, he had a good mind for war and strategy." Tyrion gazed up at her, while in the North he had taken to growing his dark beard even thicker than before. Daenerys thought it looked better on him this way, of course, she always preferred bearded men.

"He wants to protect his people, this fight will be one of the greatest in Westeros history," Tyrion said turning back to study Jon as well. "A fight so great that two great leaders out of the love for their people joined together to prevail against the forces of darkness."  Daenerys raised a brow. "Being poetic today aren't you," she commented as she turned to him. Tyrion gave a deeper smile. "Remember when I told you it is dreary in the North?" Daenerys nodded as both turned towards each other.

Looking up into the sky she recalled what he had said "You must allow them their flights of fancy?" she answered him Tyrion nodded "Exactly, now allow me mine." he said bringing his hands together to warm them. "It is cold and wet and an undead army is marching upon us, I believe now above all is the time to be poetic for a person like me."  He had a point Daenerys thought to herself. Overhead she heard the familiar call of her children as they flew above.

Drogon and Rheagal flew in wide circles around Winterfell, they were the Lords of the sky, so free and majestic they glided high and fell low as they waited for their next meal. The cold had made their hunger nearly unsatiable, and she knew that the North had only so much food to spare, Sansa Stark had made that abundantly clear. Sansa Stark, the younger half-sister to Jon, although he did not see himself as a half brother, in fact, all three of the remaining true-born Stark children seemed very accepting of Jon and treated him like a full sibling. Perhaps it was because he was the only able-bodied male heir left? Perhaps if she Naturalized him as Jon Stark, Sansa Stark would no longer give her those icy stares.

"You were married to Sansa correct?" Daenerys asked suddenly as she turned to Tyrion. Tyrion hesitated before nodding. "Yes a forced marriage and one never consummated, but we had been married for a time." Daenerys cocked her head "Wouldn't she then be still Sansa Lannister?" she asked confused. Tyrion shook his head "No, the marriage was annulled when I was convicted of killing King Joffrey" he answered his voice pained. Daenerys knows those memories near and around his trial were his darkest and most painful so she did not pry too much into them.

"Ah" was all she found to say. "But she had also married after correct?" Daenerys continued. Tyrion nodded "Yes, she was wed to Ramsey Bolton, however that name is not to be mentioned in the North, although Ramsey Bolton held Winterfell only two months ago the scars still run deep." "Many things happen in Westeros it seems in very quick succession," Daenerys commented as she adjusted her scarf on her neck.

"Should we maybe go back inside your Grace?" Tyrion asked. "No, I must go to the dragons soon," she answered him glancing up towards her children, she smiled as she watched them tumble and chase each other in the sky. A pang of sorrow twinged in her heart as she realized that two was all she had left. Her beloved Viserion, her golden and white dragon named for her brother was now lost to her forever all thanks to this accursed Night King, why did she bring all three of her children that day? 

"If I would ask your Grace a question?" Tyrion asked Daenerys nodded allowing him. "Why the questions about Lady Sansa?" Daenerys studied Tyrion for a second hesitating she wondered if she should tell him or not. "It is just that she is a hard person to read, I cannot gauge her...at time I feel she despises me and at other times I think perhaps we are becoming friends." Tyrion remained quiet for a few seconds contemplating.

He leaned against the railing before he looked up "Your Grace, you must realize Sansa Stark has gone through many trials, much like you have faced." Intrigued she bid Tyrion tell her more but Tyrion shook his head. "It is not my story to tell, you want to earn the North's trust this is something you must do yourself if your yourself are showing that you care then they will too," he said softly. It was not very often someone told her no but if there was one she could count on to tell her such it would be Tyrion, although she felt affronted at first Tyrion's suggestion was wise, she needed to learn to extend herself out more rather then relying on her advisors and servants. 

"You are right, I am the rightful Queen, if I am ever to be seen as a Queen once more in the Northern's eyes I must show good faith and show that I am not my father nor any of my other ancestors." Tyrion smiled nodding "Exactly" he stated proudly. Daenerys took her to leave and turned to go and attempt to make a better relationship between House Stark and House Targaryen. "Word of advice," Tyrion called after her. Daenerys turned to her Hand. "Speak truthfully and don't use honeyed words, lies and honeyed words is all she has known in King Landing, she will respect you more if you speak your mind and get straight to the point, but remember she will do the same."

Daenerys took this information into deep consideration. She mulled over what he said as she re-entered Winterfell, instantly heat began to soak through her cold extremities she relished this and walked slower so she could warm up more as she made her way to the Library, which is where Sansa would sit most of her days writing and answering letters and summons. Winterfell keep was a quaint place, however, she couldn't get over the fact of how dark and grim it seemed, angry direwolves snarling on the walls and taxidermied heads of animals placed everywhere.

When she made it to the Library she saw Lady Sansa reading a scroll, a pile of them were to her right on the table. She wore a rather beautiful dark gown fringed with gray fox fur. It contrasted greatly with her head of red hair and crystal clear blue eyes. Her face glowed in the firelight its soft and delicate features stood out to Daenerys, she was a beauty of that no one could disagree. When Sansa saw her she stood and greeted her.

Daenerys gave a pleasant smile and sat across from her. "Your Grace," Sansa said rather monotone. Already Daenerys was beginning to feel deflated. "I trust I am not interrupting anything important?" Daenerys asked. Sansa shook her head slowly her blue eyes never left Daenerys lavender ones. "No, please have a seat," Sansa said extending a hand out towards the chair across from her. Daenerys lowered herself gently down.

Sansa waited her hands clasped in front of her on her lap. "I wanted to meet and speak with you in a more casual setting, Jon has told me many stories about you and his life growing up here." "Has he" Sansa answered plainly but Daenerys saw a small glint of interest in Sansa's blue eyes. "Yes, he has told me you are a genius with stitching and garments and how you would Sheep Shift your sibling's beds." The mention of Sheep Shifting brought a childish smile to Sansa and for a moment Daenerys could see the innocent child that Sansa had once been.

Sansa licked her lips and relaxed in her chair. "Yes well, we all did terrible things when we were children, I do hope Jon has forgiven me for childish escapades." Daenerys nodded grinning "Yes well I do believe he has forgiven you" Daenerys assured her after a pause she started into a small story of her own. "I myself remember once putting a rotten fruit on my brother's chair before he sat down for dinner."

Sansa tilted her head intrigued. "The look on his face when he felt it squish against his bottom." Daenerys giggled. Sansa gave a small chuckle as well. Daenerys smile faded slightly, "However once he found out it was I who did it, well...he struck me across the face and sent me to my chambers, I believe I was only seven at the time." Sansa's face fell, she gave Daenerys a pitying look. Daenerys shook her head and moved it from mind "Sometimes family can be cruel and they can do cruel things both to you and others, I can't tell you the number of times my brother had threatened me" Daenerys shook her head.

Sansa nodded knowingly, although Daenerys was the only one speaking she felt that she and Sansa were beginning to have an understanding between the two of them, that something was finally clicking into place. Daenerys glanced over to the fire that swirled in the nearby fireplace, its warmth cascading outwards and filling the room. "Yet I still believed he loved me...he was all I had, in the end, how could I not?" she commented before turning back to Sansa.

"When I was a prisoner in King's Landing, Cersei told me one thing once, ' _The more people you love, the weaker you are. You'll do things for them that you know you shouldn't do. You'll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe. Love no one but your children_." Sansa spoke her voice was quiet but hardened. Daenerys was quiet for a bit, only the crackle of the fire was spoken between them. 

"When my husband Kahl Drogo, received a wound from battle, I had a healing woman-who later turned out to be a witch- heal him, little did I know she poisoned his wound and he fell from his horse a few days later, which in Dothraki culture is a death sentence." Daenerys took a moment, even after all these years it still hurt to think about him. "I stayed by his side, pregnant with our son, hoping to heal him, I consented to everything the witch said, how naive and stupid I was." She spat out.

"But it was all for naught, I lost him and our son both, and the witch cursed me...and now the only children I have are my dragons," Daenerys commented as she glanced out the window. Sansa was quiet for a longer pause. "I'm sorry that you had to experience that, I couldn't imagine what you all had to survive." Daenerys gave her a small smile "Thank-you for your kindness, however, I believe the both of us have survived things the other could not imagine."

Sansa smiled "You are very correct..." Sansa trailed off before an excited look came to her eye. "Would you like to hear stories about King Joffrey?" she asked. Daenerys nodded "Yes, please do tell, and I shall share with you how rude the 'Good Master' of Astapor had been to me." Sansa and she shared an understanding smile, it was a small step but for now, her and Sansa were beginning to have a more productive relationship, one that the both of them desperately needed.

* * *

_A few weeks Earlier on the King's Road._

Jaime Lannister tightened his cloak around his neck. The cold winds made him shiver once more as he urged his horse into a faster trot. His black steed whom he called Night, was a powerful and young horse and could keep the gait all day if needed. While he pushed North alone he couldn't help but think back to what had happened only a few days before. 'How could she do this?' he thought to himself. Cersei, his sister, his own flesh and blood and the woman he loved betrayed him, and for what? A crown and an ugly throne.

He remembered standing there only a foot away from whatever monstrosity Sir Gregor Clegane had become, he recalled the way he held his breath praying that Cersei did not give Gregor the word to draw his sword, and the thing that scared him most was that she had to think about it meticulously. A mixture of emotion clashed withing him. On one hand was anger, anger at himself for not seeing this before it was too late, anger at her for being so willing to let everything they had built together come crashing to the ground around them, and anger at everyone else, for they had been right his sister had always been a monster, he was just to blind to see.

Grief filled his heart however, for even though he was betrayed he had still loved her, he had always loved her. But now he could see that she did not love him the same way, or she was incapable of doing so, perhaps she did not know how to?  He knew his best bet was to let go, he had survived without her before he could do it again. He thought back to the time he was imprisoned by the Starks, how he kept wishing for the day to return to his sister's bedside only to find that she had replaced him.

He had given up nearly everything to rush back to her side and she simply smiled and told him "You were to slow." By the gods that nearly killed him then and there. The anger was beginning to outweigh the grief perhaps this was for the best, their love had always been the forbidden perversion. Targaryen's had married brother and sister and aunt and uncle and uncle and aunt for many generations, that was what they had always told themselves, in the afterglow when the guilt began to settle in as they had hurried to dress before someone found them.

But now it was no more, their relationship was no more. It felt strange to think of it that way but was stranger still was the fact that she was still pregnant with his child. Jaime hoped it was not a lie, he wanted to believe that there was still a chance even after all the things that had happened, he wanted this one last good thing to turn out right. He looked ahead down the dreary desolate King's Road, he a lone Knight on a quest to go North to keep some semblance of his honor and oath.

'Most likely they will kill me' he thought to himself. It was a grim thought but it could very much happen, he was the man that killed Aerys II, and now he was heading to meet with his daughter the last Targaryen. Not only that but he was heading alone with no army, no supplies, nothing just him Night, his sword and one good hand, well semi-good hand at least. "Gods be fucked I guess" he spoke out loud to himself, he did not like to swear but at this point in time, it felt like the right thing to do.

"I sure hope you don't kiss your mother with that mouth." The familiar and haughty voice made Jaime snap around his hand falling to his blade. It was Sir Bronn, sat astride his war horse in warm traveling clothes. He grinned devilishly as he sat at perfect ease on his horse. Jaime sighed and glared at him. "What are you doing here?" he asked hotly. Bronn simply shrugged on his very familiar nonchalant way.

"Same as you I guess, going to go die fighting a bunch of undead fuckers." Jaime snorted "Why would you do that? Out of the goodness of your heart?" Jaime asked. It was Bronn's turn to snort, "Nah, but I figured, if the undead do win and we aren't there, then we got an army of angry cunt Northmen, unsullied, Dothraki and a pissed off Dragonqueen and cunting dragons to boot." "And what if we go there and lose?" Jaime asked curiously. 

Once again Bronn shrugged "Well if dragons and all the rest couldn't win against them, how does Cersei expect her Golden dick heads to win against an army of the undead?"  Jaime was silent for a minute, say what you will about his manners, the man had a rather intelligent way of thinking. Jaime shrugged and motioned Bronn ahead "Lead the way if you would Sir Bronn." Jaime japed. "My pleasure Sir Jaime." Bronn quipped back but before he did he turned and whistled.

Suddenly there was movement and twenty or so men appeared from out of a nearby treeline. Jaime was unsettled by this but Bronn eased him by saying "Don't worry they are some mercenary friends of mine, though we could use the help." Jaime lifted a brow as he studied the group of men, most where older with gruff and salty appearances, some had swords while others had bows and daggers a few more had spears and shields, all of them eyed Jaime wearily.

"Friends?" Jaime asked. Bronn shrugged "Okay more like acquaintances and competition but they like gold just as much as I." Jaime glanced at Bronn, "I don't have enough gold for them!" he jibbed angrily at Bronn. Bronn chuckled "Calm yourself your golden highness, I never said you were paying did I? " Jaime paused "Then who is?" "I am, what else am I gonna use that gold you gave me on?" Bronn answered him. Jaime paused did he mean the gold from High Garden? 

"You are using your gold?" he asked Bronn befuddled. Bronn nodded "Yeah, why?" he replied. "You only spend gold on whores and wine," Jaime replied simply. Bronn shrugged "I got bored with whores and wine, you can only buy so much, now we gonna jab all day or ride?" and before Jaime could answer Bronn kicked his horse and galloped down the King Road, Jaime turned and galloped after all the while the band of mercenaries followed.

Jaime shook his head, here he was now, with Bronn and a random band of ragtag mercenaries heading North to try and save the people of Westeros, the world was becoming a strange place indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the scenes in this chapter are taking place at about the same time, hope that solves any confusion. Also sorry for the long upload, been busy.


	17. Chapter 17 -Samson-

_Jaime Lannister_

* * *

 

Jaime begrudgingly ate his semi warm soup. The group of them-thirty in all, including Bronn and him, had divided themselves amongst three small fires as they ate their dinner. The wind had a bite to it that no amount of layers seemed to hold it at bay. For the hundredth time Jaime shivered, he did not like cold and he knew it would only get worse. They made camp in a small area surrounded by oak trees, this kept them mostly safe from the brunt of the wind while also giving them shelter from the light snow that sprinkled over the top of them.

It was mostly silent aside from the crackle of the flames, a nicker from the horses and a sniffle or two from one of the men. Jaime attempted to bite off a chunk of his bread but it was as hard as a rock so he stopped trying. Bronn elbowed him and pointed to his bread, shrugging he gave it to the man who easily smashed it between his fists than began to crunch on the pieces. Jaime shook his head Bronn saw this and gave a small smirk "What too lowly for the likes of you? Food is food, you planning on going back to the castle to get more?" Jaime glowered he didn't need a reminder, although he could most likely head to Lannisport his ancestral home he most likely would be considered a traitor by them, Cercei has probably sent word to all the Lords that mattered that he was no longer to be trusted, he was an outcast and an exile.

Jaime thought back to his previous time of being a lone wanderer although he wasn't truly alone then, he had Brianne of Tarth to keep him company, theirs was a complicated relationship, at first he hated her, she was his captor and proved to be stubborn and so oathbound it annoyed him to no end. But as time went on he learned that perhaps if honor and chivalry ever existed in Knights it was solely residing within Brianne of Tarth, for she was the only Knight he knew of who kept her oaths and promises.

Jaime shook his head he had to stop thinking back to those days, although, in some strange way he missed their banter and Brianne's gruff and icy exterior, he knew she had a soft side to her, and she was the only one who could rebuff his jests which always amused him. Jaime was brought from his thoughts when a small fight broke out amongst two of the larger men in the circle around the fire to the left of them. It was two brothers, Hulf and Raggar, both stupidly large, each carried large axes and each wore thick braided beards.

But between the both of them neither could hardly ride a horse, it took all their efforts to keep the horse between them and the ground, honestly, it was quite amusing and many of the men took bets to see which brother would fall off first. However, Hulf and Ragger were arguing at the top of their lungs pushing each other's chest because Hulf was sure that Ragger ate his bread. But as it turns out Ragger was the more intelligent of the two-however not by much- pointed out that Hulf had bread crumbs in his beard therefore Hulfs accusations were in fact false.

This fight was then settled when another man within their circle threw a piece of bread at Hulf striking the brute in the head before screaming at him to quote-unquote 'Stuff It.' Peace soon settled over the men. Deciding that since he was most likely going to spend a lot of time on the road with them and that he was going to be fighting with them Jaime began to get to know his new compatriots. He started at first with the men in his circle, asking how they knew Bronn, what their names were, where they came from the simple stuff like that.

Most of them came from Westeros, while a few hailed from Essos. Sellswords seemed to be a different breed of soldier Jaime soon found out. They had their own class of humor even though there wasn't much for 'class' in their humor. Most of them came to Jaime as either madmen or giant pricks, usually both. Although Jaime had grown accustomed to Bronn, Malvic the Quick-a fidgety man who carried a short sword and a leather baldric full of knives- could out swear Bronn in every way.

One by one Jaime was introduced to these mercenaries, Stannis Storm, the youngest who was also an excellent bowman apparently could drink any man under the table. Caryn who wielded a greatsword was the oldest and loved poetry, so much so he would read it from memory out loud while he battled. However, the most interesting man was Sir Garris the Lucky of House Hunter, who claimed he was the seventh son to Lord Ion who happened to be the seventh son to Lord Eon Hunter who had passed some time ago and Sir Gilwood had now taken his father's place.

Sir Garris told Jaime that he was always lucky and could win at any game of chance, he has had gold fall into his laps, the most beautiful women fall in love and he could defeat his enemies by just standing nearby and letting them fall on their own swords. Jaime, of course, did not believe this and took all these as boastful jests. When Jaime had learned enough for that night set up a watch rotation then he turned to bed.

As Jaime wrapped himself up tightly within his blankets he dreamed of something he hadn't before, it was a memory of his earlier days as a Kingsguard and the strange building the King would always visit that he and the others were forbidden from entering, he remembered a young girl with bright red hair and how she would beg to ride his horse and how she would sneak them sweetbreads and ale from the kitchen.

Briefly, he wondered, whatever happened to that girl and what was the point of that place to the Mad King? He turned it from the mind and instead dreamed of the halls of Casterly Rock and in his heart, he felt a yearning to return there if he could.

The next days passed by in a haze of wind, snow, and cold. It impeded their progress greatly having to stop and start fires to warm themselves or to eat. The food itself was simple fare, soups and hard tack with bread the same consistency of stone. Most days the young Stannis would get a rabbit or a squirrel for them to roast and eat, which Jaime and the others greatly appreciated. Aside from food, the only other thing they needed to worry about was combating the boredom.

There was only so many songs that could be sung before someone yelled for them to shut it, and although taking bets on weather Hulf or Ragger fell off their horse was amusing, there was little to bet with. Bronn was able to keep them entertained by asking a question and one by one each in the group would tell their answer. With the quietness of winter their sound carried, in a strange way it felt to Jaime that they were the only ones who existed now, there were no others they met on the road, not unless they were near a town.

It was semi liberating, to freely walk on the road, not worrying about which castle or fort to go to next, where to make the custom appearances before continuing on their way. This journey was relaxing for him, it allowed him to clear his mind, to start to focus on what mattered, right now his oath mattered, the people in King's Landing, hell all the people in Westeros, none of them deserved to be turned into whatever that thing was that Jon Snow had shown them.

Jaime shivered, not from the cold for once. How that bastard Jon Snow could calmly and without emotion walk up to that thing, touch it, and speak about it as if it was nothing otherworldly or horrifying at all. Jaime had witnessed a horde of Dothraki screamers barreling down on his men, hell he saw a dragon burn his army alive, he had seen countless wars and battles but what truly frightened him to his core was that monstrosity that crawled out of that box. 

One early morning Jaime and Bronn who had become the defacto leaders of their little group, mostly Jaime due to the fact he had the leading experience, heard a horse galloping towards them. Bringing them all to a halt Jaime turned his horse and squinted down the road. They had passed Ivy Inn a day ago, on either side of the road stretched long expanses of fields that slowly grew into forests. The area was pleasant, the snow had lessened to were only a few inches remained, the rest was carried off the road by the wind.

The figure soon emerged from around a bend, Instantly Jaime could recognize the Lannister armor. It was bold and stood out from most others, with bright red and gold embellishments who could not recognize it. A single soldier made his way towards them. Jaime waited patiently as the man brought his winded horse to a halt near him. The horse was a bay beauty, heaved heavily, its strength nearly gone, it's sides were slathered with sweat and it coughed every so often.

"Dismount that horse boy!" Jaime angrily ordered, he did not like when people abused their mounts. Horses were your comrade and companion when on the war march, it could possibly be the thing that saves your life so one should treat it with respect. The young man on the horse quickly did as he was ordered, the boy staggered nearly dropping to his knees. Jaime could see the lad was exhausted and sleep deprived, his eyes were red and bleary. 

"S..Sir Jaime!" he saluted his arm half rising up in a salute. "At ease," Jaime said swinging himself done from his horse. The lad obeyed he staggered as he stood. Jaime squinted at the face, it was covered in mud and dirt, his skin looked wind chapped and his lips were blue from the cold. However, a name came to mind Samson Swyft! The youngest son to Harys Swyft. Samson's older sister Dorna was his aunt, married to his uncle Kevan Lannister.

Samson had dark blonde hair the color of barley, and very pale blue-green eyes. Samson cleared his throat. "My Lord," he said haggardly. "Take a second Samson, you look like death is on your heels." Samson shook his head "I...I am sorry my Lord, I just...we have been trying to catch up to you for days, we feared we would never have made it...I volunteered to push ahead after you, I rode a day and night to find you."

As if on cue Samson's horse collapsed and lay in the road, it seemed to go to sleep instantly. A look of worry and guilt crossed Samson's face. "Ginger," he said simply as if registering it all. "Come sit before you collapse" Jaime commented placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing him to the side of the road to sit. After forcing Samson to sit Jaime heard Bronn whistle, turning he managed to catch the skein of wine that Bronn had tossed to him.

Jaime uncorked it and pressed it into Samson's hands. Greedily Samson drank, light red colored wine spilled down his face as he did. "Why have you ridden so hard, report Samson," Jaime asked getting slightly irritated having to ask. He understood Samson was dog dead tired, but he was a soldier and this was no time to be weak. Samson wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Apologies Sir, but I had to so we could get in contact with you."

"Who is we?" Jaime asked confused. "Well...we heard what the Queen did," Samson said timidly. "What exactly did you hear? Jaime questioned. "I was there Sir, when they showed us...that...that...thing." Samson had this faraway look in his face, his eyes filling with horror from the memory. Jaime understood, he nodded and waited for Samson to continue. "I heard her say to the Dragon Queen that we would help fight...but when I asked when we would be headed North, they told us to stay and don't ask questions...when I asked for you they said the Queen had relieved you of your duty...when no one could find you...I asked around, one of the patrol guards said he saw you leave the city dressed in black heading North alone."

Samson stared up at Jaime "You are going to go fight them, aren't you?" he asked questioningly. Jaime shrugged "If they will have me I will." Samson nodded "Good, I and the others are too." Jaime stood still for a few moments he was shocked. Samson was a new recruit, he came in with a large group of others just before the sacking of Tyrell's keep, Jaime remembered that Samson had fought bravely in that fight and had survived the battle of the Gold Road. 

He was young, he and the others still had the stores of Knights honor bound by their oaths stuck in their heads, they hadn't realized how the world was, how cruel, heartbreaking and cutthroat it was, everything they had learned for the most part was a lie, at least it was now in the reign of Queen Cercei. Anger tore through him how could he be so blind? But that emotion was put to second by a different matter altogether.  

 "Samson...how are you heading North? The Queen forbade any troops from coming...unless?" "We betrayed our Queen, we want to head North with you...you are our Lord, you are our General, we follow you." Jaime grabbed the man by his shoulders, he did it so suddenly he surprised both himself and Samson. "Do you have any idea what you have done? What the consequences will be?!" He yelled into Samson's face.

Samson stared into Jaime's face, for a few moments he looked speechless then he spoke with sudden clarity. "If I die, I want to die fighting a war I chose to fight, fighting for a leader I chose to follow, not because I was told too." Jaime let go. Samson looked up at him. "If she was willing to betray her own brother, what are random men under her banner to her?" He and Samson shared a long stare, finally, he nodded "Very well, what's done is done, you choose your fate, you can ride with us."

Jaime motioned to the mercenaries and Bronn. Bronn simply gave a quick uptick of his head in consent. "I will need to contact the others, they are a day's ride behind." Jaime sighed "How many fools have followed you?" Samson was quiet for a moment before he hesitantly answered: "There is about One-hundred and fifty my Lord, one hundred mounted, the rest spearman and archers." Jaime let out a deep slow breath, "How did you leave King's Landing? You just left?"

Samson shrugged "The Golden Company was arriving, everyone was distracted by them we just slipped out." Jaime squinted his eyes "You just slipped out? 150 men and horses just left?" he stated. Samson nodded "Yes my Lord." Jaime felt as if he had been sucker punched. How on earth did that happen? What was going on in King's Landing, how could they not see 150 men leaving? Or did they not care? 

Jaime glowered and turned to Sir Garris. "Sir Garris please ride south and meet with these other men, tell them to head this way at once, we will meet up at that nearby field." Jaime pointed over to a flat expanse of land. Sir Garris nodded and at once set off down the road. Jaime turned to Samson "All right, we are stopping early today let's break camp." The men set out to break camp in the field as they did Bronn came up to him. 

"So how are we supposed to feed 150 men?" Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose and thought for a few minutes. There was no way to hunt for that amount of food, and he did not have the gold to afford, it seemed hopeless to him. But then he remembered the land they were on, and who owned it. A small house that could barely be passable as Noble but they were declared so, Jaime smiled to himself their keep was only an hour's ride away.

"Sir Bronn mount up, we have a Lord to meet." Swiftly Jaime mounted Knight, he knew this could work, the Lord was so small, Cercei would not have bothered sending a raven to him, and he was not well liked by most of the other Lords, they most likely would not have said anything to him either. "Who are we meeting?" Bronn asked confused his horse matching pace with Night. Jaime smiled at Bronn then answered "Lord Lawren Eggert."

* * *

 

 


	18. Chapter 18 -Lord Eggert-

_Jaime Lannister_

Jaime and Bronn moved down the road at a brisk trot, their horses were both well bred so they had the stamina and temperament to keep this pace nearly all day if needed.  While they rode Bronn spoke to him. "Who is this Lord Eggert?" he asked visibly confused. Jaime turned his head to him "Lord Lawren is...he is hard to describe." Jaime began. Bronn motioned towards the road "Looks like we've got plenty of time." 

Jaime sighed "House Eggert is a small House that had only been in existence for maybe two-three generations at the most." Jaime fixed his seat and lessened on his reign as they continued moving down the road. Bronn turned his head to scan the forest to the right of them. "So probably not a rich Lord I am guessing." Jaime shook his head "No actually, he is very well off, his costs are low and he makes plenty of gold and silver off of what he provides the Kingdom." Jaime explained.

"Which is?" Bronn questioned. Keeping a straight face Jaime stated "Chicken and eggs."  Bronn snort laughed as he adjusted his horses' direction. "You got to be joking" he continued grinning from ear to ear, "Chickens? How does one get rich off of chickens?" Jaime glanced over at Bronn, partially grinning he explained "Think about it, what do most Lords and Ladies have for dinner at feasts? Yes maybe a Boar or Stag but that's only if they are able to take it in the forest, chicken, on the other hand, is easy, no need to hunt, you just go outside and butcher it", Lord Lawren and his family have been breeding a special meat stock of chickens that grow nearly twice as fast and twice as large as normal chickens, and their meat is tender."

Bronn stared at him "You fucking serious? Getting rich off of fat fucking chickens?" Jaime nodded amused by Bronn's frustration. "Should have been a chicken farmer instead of a mercenary."  he playfully jested. For a second, a very brief second Jaime was sure that Bronn was going to hit him but he ended up not which was fine by him. "So he's a chicken lord, what of it, why does no one like em?" Bronn asked.

Jaime looked ahead to the trail then back to Bronn "He's too friendly." Bronn squinted and shook his head "I don't get you, Lords, how can someone be too friendly?" Jaime shrugged "It's hard to explain as I said...he just, every time there is a required meeting or tourney of Lords he is there...and he will come up and just talk and talk ask about everything then he tries to invite you out to see his chickens, wants to give you a deal, wants to marry his daughters off to your sons it's just endless." Jaime waved his hand.

Bronn shrugged "Doesn't sound too bad of a guy."  Jaime shook his head vigorously "No Lord is that nice, he just is trying to raise his Houses stature, it's very blatant and obvious no tact at all." Bronn pursed his lips and adjusted his seat, the slowed their horses down into a walk, Jaime gripped his pommel as his horse shook itself. He absolutely hated when a horse did that. They could see Lord Eggert's keep, it was a small thing about half the size of Winterfell with tan and beige walls built from the rocks from the nearby riverbeds.

The banners of House Eggert fluttered in the wind, a red rooster on a bright green field. As they neared the main gate Jaime saw a soldier step outside through the wicket gate. He strode out a few paces down the road before waiting for them. Jaime and Bronn kicked their horses into a quick trot to cover the ground between, they brought them both to a half a few paces away from the guard. "In the name of Lord Eggert who goes there?" the man asked, he was an older man with a gray mustache and long eyebrows, he had a flat square nose on his face and a set of beady brown eyes buried behind wrinkles.

"I am Sir Jaime of House Lannister, this is Sir Bronn of the Blackwater, we seek an audience with Lord Eggert," Jaime answered him. The man's brows raised at the mention of his name. Quickly the man bowed then turned and yelled to some soldiers on the wall "Open the gate!" The man stepped back and waved his arm "The keep is yours Sir's" Jaime and Bronn rode into the keep easily, they were greeted by two young stableboys who immediately took their horses reigns once Jaime and Bronn dismounted and then led them away to be taken care of.

The same soldier from before led them into the keep. The keep itself was designed more of a home than a holdfast it was also built to be symmetrical, each side matching with the other. A large stone staircase led to the main door of which was painted in vibrant colors of reds and green. On either side of the doors were two large chicken statues erected. Both of them cemented forever in a graceful crow. 

They were led down a rather short hall to a sitting room where they were bid to sir, servants at once plied them with wine and small morsels of food to snack on. Water and cloth were also brought to them which Jaime thankfully used to wipe the grime and muck from the road off of him. How he wished he could take a bath to clean himself off but they had no time he had men to now feed. The thought that 150 men were still able to just walk out of King's Landing irked him, even if the guards were busy overseeing the Golden company Cercei would have noticed? Someone had to? Or perhaps they did and didn't care? They figured it was 150 men that they no longer had to feed. 

Did loyalty even matter anymore? Or had it ever? Jaime mulled this over as he drank warm ale, it filled him with renewed vigor. Bronn seemed to also be enjoying the ale and food, he drank and ate greedily his feet set up on the small table before them. Jaime looked around and studied the room in which they were in. Although the decor was simple Lord Eggert had some taste. The floor was a deep redwood, glazed over nicely. The curtains and fabric accents in the room were of a dark red and burgundy, while all around the room were statues of silver chickens were set. 

Lord Eggert also had a row of tiny thinly carved chicken eggs made of various metals and decorated with small gems set upon even smaller three-pronged stands. Above the fireplace that roared with heat, there was a family portrait, Jaime studied it while they waited. In the middle was Lord Eggert a portly man with thinning red hair and bright blue eyes, next to him stood a soft-featured woman, her hair was the color of oak bark with equally dark eyes to boot, however her chin was gracefully pointed, an elegant nose set in the middle of her face and wide eyes with equally long lashes.

She wore a dark green dress that showed off refined collar bones. Behind Lord Eggert and his wife in the portrait was two young men, their sons. Both took after their father with vibrant red hair however the taller of the two took after his mother in regards to his nose, eyes, and cheekbones, while the younger took after the father. Sitting in front of Lord Eggert was three daughters and my goodness, either this painter was bribed greatly to paint the daughters so exquisite or Lord Eggert somehow was able to produce three sirens from his loins.

Each one after the next was breathtaking, each had long thin necks like swans, long tumbling hair in vibrant waves. One the color of strawberries, the other had hair the color of a chestnut while the third had dark brown hair the color of candied chocolate. Each of them had deep glistening brown eyes, the color of earth after torrential rain. 

A servant walked in and announced the arrival of their Lord, Jaime stood and turned to greet Lord Eggert. The man strode in a bright and cheery smile on his face. He held his hands above his shoulders and loudly greeted "My Lords! Welcome to my humble abode! Please take your fill of drink and food for we have plenty!" Lord Eggert bowed before each of them Jaime and Bronn dipped their heads back in reply.

"Thank-you Lord Eggert you are too kind," Jaime said politely meeting Lord Eggert's eyes. Lord Eggert beamed up at him, his mouth full of healthy teeth, his smile was nearly infectious but Jaime had resolved to not be affected by it. "The Queen's own brother is always welcome to House Eggert, however, I was taken by surprise we had not heard word that you would be arriving." Jaime cleared his throat "Yes, well it was not expected for us either, some problems on the road have occurred and we find ourselves in the middle of a rather embarrassing situation." 

Lord Eggert looked genuinely concerned, his smile faded and a look of worry came to his face. "I am very sorry to hear that, bandits?" the Lord questioned. Bronn snickered "Nah, Bandits would not dare go out in this weather. Nor would they be so dumb to attack Sir Jaime." Bronn said off handily before he dove back into his ale. Jaime pursed his lips and shot daggers at Bronn. "Sir Bronn here is a rather recent Knight and our journey on the road has made us forget manners," Jaime explained excusing Bronn's curt reply.

Bronn shrugged, surprisingly Lord Eggert was not offended by Bronn's mannerisms. "No need to apologize, why don't we talk about how House Eggert can help over supper?" Lord Eggert suggested happy enough "You said so yourself you have been on the road long, warm food and company can do any soul well, especially in weather such as this." Lord Eggert beckoned them to sit while they waited for dinner to be set.

Jaime could here the quick clatter of silverware and tableware in a far off room, while they sat there Lord Eggert made pleasant talk mostly about his family, how he married his younger son to a nearby Lord's daughter, how his older son was now expecting his second child. Lord Eggert also talked about business, his new breed of chicken that grew twice as fast and as large as a normal chicken, he also talked about his daughters.

Bronn was the one who commented on his daughters "Are they not married?" he asked simply. Lord Eggert shook his head "No, I have not found worthy enough men for them, all the Lords who wish to marry them only want them for their looks nothing more, although tied to larger houses would be helpful to mine, my daughters deserve men who will treat them with respect and love them for who they are." Jaime was stunned by this, how many Lords did he know would marry off their daughter for a new horse? Most Lords saw daughters as a bargaining chip, something to trade and sell and use to one's advantage but not Lord Eggert, fascinating.

"You are the last true family man left" Bronn stated and raised a glass to Lord Eggert. Lord Eggery chuckled and raised his glass to Bronn. "I suppose I am, one must keep the ones that they love safe, no matter the cost." Jaime nodded at this, he felt conflicted, who did he love now? Although deep down he would always have love towards Cercei, there was no denying the fact that she did not love him the same way, he was an extension to her, something to use and posses which could be considered love but the kind that he wanted or needed.

"Speaking of safety" Jaime spoke up putting his mug down on the table. "How are those in your lands? No problems with neighboring Lords, no attacks by the DragonQueen's Dothraki or her armies?" Lord Eggert shook his head "None that I know of, however, one of my Nightwatch men swore he saw one of her dragons." Jaime raised a brow, dragons this far south, was the undead army a lie? A ruse to get Cercei to soften her guard. 

"Did he saw which way they were flying?" Jaime asked Lord Eggert nodded "North, but then a cloud coverage blew in and he could not see anymore." Jaime was about to ask another question when a servant came in bowing she stated dinner was now ready. Lord Eggert slapped his legs and stood up "Come then! Let us eat!" He eagerly guided Bronn and him down the hallway, the scent of cooked chicken hovered savory in the hall and they were led into a large dining room.

The tables and chairs were all dark in color and the table itself was piled on with plates of food. Six chickens cooked and drizzled with spiced oils. Large bowls of bread aside small plates of salted butter. There were hard-boiled eggs seasoned with salt and pepper as well as several platters of apple and cherry tarts. Jaime and Bronn were set on one side of the table, Lord Eggert sat on the right end of the table, the wine was poured for Jaime and Bronn and they waited only a few moments before the Lady Eggert entered.

She entered the room in a swirl of red and silver. The majority of her dress was dyed a dark red with silver stitching on the sleeves and bodice. She glided across the room and in tow were the three captivating daughters of Lord Eggert. Bronn straightened up at the sight of them and began attempts to slick back his hair. Jaime took great pride in leaning over and whispering "You're married" to him. Bronn stopped glanced over at Jaime then shrugged and continued to primp himself.

Jaime rose and greeted Lady Eggert. "My lady, thank you for having us, we did not mean to impose," Jaime said sitting back down. Lady Eggert cooly waved him off. "There is no need for such formalities, and it is no trouble at all, please call me Catelyn" Jaime tilted his head "Catelyn?" he asked questioningly. Catelyn nodded "Yes, although I suppose for you that name is rather difficult for you, the women I was named after happened to also be your enemy at one time." 

Jaime nodded his mouth had gone dry he took a sip of wine and swished it about. "Catelyn Stark was not my enemy, her son was of course but Catelyn...I perhaps am only alive because of her, well her and another strong-willed woman." Jaime commented. Catelyn smiled softly "Yes well us Northern girls are all made of ice and Iron." Jaime was surprised by this he had no idea she was Northern. Jaime was about to ask but Catelyn beat him to it.

"Before I met my husband, I was once Catelyn Umber the eldest daughter to Lord Greatjon Umber." Jaime was stunned at this information, he did not know Lord Greatjon had any daughters marry. Jaime bowed his head "Although I was not the one to swing the sword I apologize for the loss of your father and brother." There was a silence in the room, all eyes were on Catelyn. She paused for a few moments before she too nodded her head "What's done is done, the war of the five kings seemed to happen a lifetime ago, I wish no ill will to the ones who survived, they bear enough of a burden already."

Catelyn took her glass and raised it "To all those who fought in those battles, both living and dead we raise a glass." Jaime, Bronn, Catelyns three daughters, and Lord Eggert all raised a glass. After toasting and digging into some of the food they ate in strangely comfortable silence. Jaime couldn't bring himself to speak much for any moment he took away from speaking was moment less he got to enjoy this wondrous chicken.

The juices were rich and hearty and so succulent one bite of the chicken filled your mouth with an epiphany of flavor. It was so soft and tender Jaime wondered if this was the best chicken he has ever eaten. Bronn had abandoned all manners and was currently ripping pieces of chicken off with his fingers and sucking the bones rather loudly. Jaime his mouth full of chicken darted daggered eyes to him but to no avail, Bronn may have been a knight but he was never going to be a gentleman. 

The three ravishing Eggert daughters gave polite smiles and grins to him and Bronn while they cut and ate their chicken with grace.  Bronn took a large swig of wine before declaring that "This chicken is bloody delicious." Jaime shot Lord Eggert and apologetic look but the Lord seemed pleased "I am glad you enjoy, the key is all in the juices." Jaime swallowed his last bit of chicken before turning to Lord Eggert. 

"My Lord, I am once again very thankful for this wonderful meal, however, I must be rather straightforward." Lord Eggert bid him continue. Jaime cleared his throat with one last swig of wine. "It is no coincidence that I and Bronn are traveling North, as you are aware of Daenerys Targaryen and her forces have taken refuge in Winterfell with the Northern forces that have banded under the banners of Jon Snow the King in the North."

Lord Eggert nodded understanding. "Well our Queen Cercei has made a temporary truce with the both of them." Lord Eggert raised his brows in surprise. "I see....is there a reason why?" he asked. Jaime remained silent, wondering how next to explain the situation. "There is an unforeseen threat to all of us, one of importance, one that goes beyond Houses and loyalties." Jaime glanced to Catelyn she had a far off look in her eyes. 

Lord Eggert made contact with his wife before turning back to Jaime "So it is true then? The Northern stories? The Long Night is upon us?" Jaime was once again shocked, Lord Eggert seemed to know already. "You know of the undead?" Jaime asked Lord Eggert nodded and motioned to Catelyn. "House Umber is more North than even the Starks, they have heard whispers from the Wildlings for several years, but Ned Umber my wife's nephew, he wrote to us telling us of what has happened, although we do not wish to against the Queen we did send supplies to him of food and supplies."

Jaime nodded it was a tricky thing to be married to a Southern Lord when you were a Northern. There was a silence before Jaime spoke: "Jon Snow brought one south during the meeting, I saw one with my own eyes." Jaime shook his head he still could not get over the fact that a corpse could move like that, by the gods the noise it made. A servant quickly filled his cup and he heartily drank it. 

Lord Eggert stared down into his own cup. "I am guessing the reason you are headed North then is to fight them." Lord Eggert stated matter of factly. Jaime nodded "We are, it's just we did not prepare well for the travel and now we have no food or supplies for the journey."  Lord Eggert gave him a saddened look "I am sorry to hear that, House Eggert will of course help, we will spare all we can, how many men ride with you?" Jaime sheepishly glanced down "Nearly 200." 

Catelyn's voice yelled out "200? Does our queen only send a measly 200? How large are the Royal armies? and only 200!" Catelyn's eyes burned with fire and Jaime could only take her anger in silence. Lord Eggert cleated his throat which caused Catelyn to open and close her mouth a few more times in silent anger before she sat down fuming. Bronn scooted his chair an inch away from Jaime and continued to eat his meal.

"Our Queen has decided that two hundred is all she can spare to assist our temporary allies." was all Jaime could reply. Catelyn wiped her head around to her husband, "You will call your banners and send all the men we have at our disposal as well as all the supplies we can spare, I will write to our neighbors and tell them to do the same." With that Catelyn stood and with a swirl of her dress she was gone disappearing down the hall behind them.

A silence filled the room once more with only the sounds of Bronns eating could be heard. Jaime glanced over to Lord Eggert "I apologize for-" Lord Eggert waved him off laughing loudly as he did. Jaime stared at him. "Once again Sir Jaime there is no need to apologize, my wife has always been one step ahead of me, I was going to just as she said before she even told me." Jaime glanced to Bronn "Why?" he asked.

Lord Eggert chuckled "The North is filled with hard bastards, if all of them have set aside their differences to fight together, then there is something truly terrible awaiting us, Southern Lord or no, the North will need all the help it can get." Jaime took a small sip of wine "You do know if Cercei finds out..." "Don't let her then." Wordlessly him and Lord Eggert came to an agreement. Both would help each other out.

After dinner they were given rooms to sleep and baths were drawn for them. Jaime spent as much time as he could in the bath before the water went cold. Afterward, when he was felt clean and crisp he wrote a letter that was to be delivered to the men who were camped in the field. He told them that they would be waiting a day or so for fresh supplies and troops. When he finished the letter and sent it with a young squire to be taken he looked down at the blank parchment and inkwell.

He hesitated for a moment unsure of whether or not he wanted to do this, but it was the right thing to do.  Although it was difficult to write at first, now with his dominant hand missing he had relearned how to write with his left, and although it would never be perfect it was legible.

_Cercei,_

_I am several days away from Kings Landing, I originally was planning on riding North alone, but fate has seen to it that I lead forces. The men that have joined me are young, heads filled with honor and tales of great battles do not put that against them. I have been given rest and supplies by one Lord Eggert, he is most kind and is only doing what he thinks is the right thing for the realm, you and I both know that the troops he sends and supplies he gives will not do much in ways of stopping what is North but for the good of the people of Westeros we have to try._

_Please, for the love of the mother that bore the both of us, and for the blood that we share please be merciful to those that have helped me and your people. They still wish to serve you and call you their Queen, they are just afraid and are doing what they think will help._

_Jaime_

_P.s I wish you and our child good health, I hope I can one day see them but if not, tell them their father loved them greatly._

With that Jaime left and went to the raven room and he himself sent the letter to Cercei. He could not risk anyone reading it. Once it was sent he returned back to his quarters and eagerly took a position on the soft bed. He went to sleep immediately.

The next day he awoke early to the sounds of roosters, several roosters, in fact, all crowing at the loudest sound they could muster. 'By the gods, why didn't we eat those birds last night?' he thought darkly to himself. He rose and dressed, went downstairs where he met Bronn talking to one of the Eggert daughters she was giggling and blushing behind her hand. Jaime clapped him on the shoulder "We need to prepare, no time for this." Jaime said quickly.

Bronn groaned and waved him off. Jaime rolled his eyes and grabbed a biscuit, filled it with bacon and egg than ate it as he strode down the hall. He met Lord Eggert at the door. Quickly he was ushered outside and Jaime saw ten or so wagons laden with supplies, all around them men were coming into the keep and standing at attention in various areas. Jaime was stunned at how quick they were able to get all their banners together.

Lord Eggert spoke, "We are a small house and have little for lands, but we were able to muster a Hundred and fifty, I also gave you forty hens with feed enough for three months, the eggs that they will lay should help feed them all." Lord Eggert walked Jaime to the wagons, cured chicken jerky, pickled eggs and vegetables, rice, flour, and beans filled several, another three had tents, soap, water, and ale casks. There were six wagons stacked high with hay and feed for the horses as well as one wagon that was filled with medical supplies. 

On top of food and men, Lord Eggert provided two cooks and a healer as well. Jaime stared at Lord Eggert. "I...thank-you Lord Eggert, you have done a great kindness to us and the crown." Lord Eggert smiled "It is the least I could do." Jaime shook his head vigorously "No, this is not the least this...this is so much and you are giving this away at a great cost to you why?" Jaime was genuinely concerned, why would this man be doing this, he had to know that Cercei would eventually find out. 

Lord Eggert gave him a knowing look then put a hand on his shoulder. He looked deeply into Jaime's eyes and said: "Sometimes the honorable thing to do isn't always the right thing to do." Jaime studied him closely, that phrase the way he said it, spoke to him in a more deeper level. He thought back to the when the Mad King was screaming to 'Burn them all' he had always thought what he did was dishonorable, to kill one's King and Lord, to stab them in a back and betray them, but it had been the right thing, so maybe  now that he thought back to it, perhaps it was both the honorable and the right thing to do?

Lord Eggert gave him a pat on the shoulder and said: "I wish you luck, with hope the other Lords may have listened to my wife, you may see more men and supplies as you head North." Jaime gave him a nod and with that Lord Eggert returned back to his keep. Bronn came walking out a swagger in his step he grinned like a wolf at him. Jaime did not need to ask, he knew he would hear Bronn's gloating soon enough.

"Which one?" he asked as they made their way to their horses "The redhead, of course, she came to me after dinner....then her younger sister came to me at midnight, and finally in the wee hours of the morning the last one came for a visit." Jaime was unsure if he was going to believe him or not, but he saw the three said sisters all giggling amongst themselves and waving at Bronn. Jaime mounted his horse without a word and Bronn joined him grinning from ear to ear.

Jaime turned to him "Lieutenant-Commander Bronn, be a good man and bring up the rear guard" Bronns smiled faded into a glower and he turned his horse around and walked it away. "Form up!" Jaime yelled in a strict and bellowing voice. Instantly men began to form into marching order, there was some disarray but with Bronn and Jaime's guidance, they got them all underway. Jaime walked out on Knight his trusty steed and behind him, the banners of the Red rooster followed.


	19. Chapter 19 -The Gray Cloaks-

_Jaime Lannister_

The days and weeks following their visit to Lord Eggert were eventful, to say the least. Jaime had led Lord Eggert's forces to meet with the mercenaries, there they were introduced to one another while they waited for the rest of the forces from Kings Landing. They had to only wait for a few candle wicks before the familiar rows of red and gold troops could be seen coming down the road towards them. Once those forces joined with them Jaime and Bronn set out to naming captains to better communicate and organize the forces. 

Samson Swyft and two other Lannister men were named captains of the Lannister forces, their names were Dwan Hallaw and Corban Redding both were young and capable men who had good heads on their shoulders and Samson vouched for them. The three captains were chosen for the Eggert forces were the three most senior, the first was a man who had fought in Roberts Rebellion and survived the battle of the trident, Conin Gray was a spry older man, with a beard full of white yet he had the energy to out march even the youngest recruit. 

The next, was Alsor Kray a dutiful man who was a strong spearman, he also happened to be a distant cousin to Lord Eggert. The last was Arton Tarre who's family lineage could be stretched past nearly 1000 years, his family had the uncanny ability to produce many heirs, Arton himself had eight sons and four daughters. Four of said sons served under him, the rest too young to march. The family was a family of brown haired green eyed men who stood tall and lanky. 

When Jaime had finished instilling all these men with their ranks he then made a small meeting to discuss their next action, it was nearly midday now and Jaime wanted to begin traveling North as soon as possible. So once all the other leaders had been briefed on where they were headed and why they were dismissed to gather their men and get them in marching order. The task to get the army together and on the road took longer than he wanted, even with seasoned and intelligent captains all the men were either tired or confused.

This caused men to walk into one another, or to join with the wrong groups, and Jaime felt like he was babysitting children trying to get all these men to form straight and coherent lines. 

"Why bother with the lines? why not march how they are." Bronn suggested but Jaime shook his head "No if an army can't even figure out how to march together how do you expect them to fight together?" Jaime replied back not taking his eyes off the men, _at least were in equal squadrons_ he thought bitterly to himself.  _'Gods, look at me, Jaime Lannister former general of the royal army cannot even get 300 men to march off the same foot.'_

After some point Jaime conceded and decided although they weren't perfect they needed to move, so he ordered the lines to move on down the road. Jaime and Bronn road in the middle of the convoy, the Lannister forced in front of them with the Captains leading the line, while behind them was the wagons and finally Lord Eggert's men bringing up the rear. Down the King's road, they marched until the graying fingers of dusk began to caress against the sky. 

They broke for camp, Jaime overseeing the tents being raised, although there was not enough for all the men, Jaime attempted to put as many as he could within them. Jaime even refused to have a separate tent to himself and decided to share with Bronn, Conin Gray, and Arton Tarre. That night all the men ate a warm and filling chicken broth soup with biscuit and for once Jaime thought to himself as he overlooked their small camp that things might be looking up for them.

The days following proved to be the most vital and the most challenging. The Lannister troops were exhausted from all the catch up they had been doing and were still technically green troops. Lord Eggert's men were well rested and most had been in a battle but not all, they also were out of touch with new military standards and were lacking discipline.

Jaime made sure to let the men know exactly his expectations, he did his best to stay fair but neither was he lenient. Under his and Bronn's watchful eye all the men fell into step, moving as one, thinking as one and being what they were an army. Eventually, they received more aid from nearby lesser Lords, this was usually given in the form of supplies, mostly food, some tents, blankets, firewood and the like.

One lord gave fresh horses and took in as many lightly injured ones as he could. Another donated his blacksmith apprentice who was about to go off on his own anyway. He joined and did repairs on any armor or horseshoeing as need be. Usually, each lord gave them a wagon of food supplies and anywhere from 20-50 men. Soon enough their numbers swelled to nearly 500, not a large amount but not anything to scoff at either. 

Of these men, half where mounted, the rest a mixture of spearmen, pikemen, infantry, and archers. With each new group of recruits, Jaime would make one the captain so that they could have some semblance of hierarchy and order to everything. One of the things that irked Jaime the most about this rag-tag collaboration of men was the fact there was so many flags and sigils, he wished they could all fall under one banner, one purpose, and one uniform. 

The further North they marched the more the men were able to get accustomed to one another. It was a rather boring and arduous march along the King's Road in winter. One could not fault in the men carrying on conversations with one another as they marched, as long as they did not fall behind Jaime was happy to let them talk away all day if they wanted. They marched onwards relatively unchallenged, so they moved quickly and efficiently.

The army's only enemy at the moment, however, was the blasted cold of winter and the elements it brought. The Lannister armor, in particular, was not built for cold, it was built for the heat of King's Landing (Which even then it failed miserably at being effective against heat). Jaime would find himself shivering no matter how much wrappings he put around his head and face. Bronn in his usual padded leather armor was jealously unbothered by the cold. 

Jaime questioned him on this one day as they walked in their usual place in the center of the lines. "How are you not damned cold in that!?" Jaime glowered as he wrapped his cloak tighter around his neck. Bronn leaned back in his saddle with a cheeky grin. "Thought you would have figured it out by now." Jaime stared at him bitterly. They rode the horses a few more feet before Bronn let out a loud sigh.

"Fine, fine, You wanna know the truth?" Bronn asked an eyebrow raised. "Please do, Ser Bronn" Jaime said laying on the charm in a thick sarcastic manner. Bronn snorted and shook his head once before finally getting to the point. "It's your metal armor if you don't got paddin inside it the cold goes right to the skin," he stated matter of factly. Jaime furrowed his brows. Was this true? He had never truly fought a war in the winter, nor had many in his family, even his father Tywin had never taken forces far enough North for that idea to cross their minds. 

"Why you think those Northern cunts always wearing so much fur?" Bronn stated as he scanned the far of treelines of the forest. Jaime shrugged "I figured they just loved being hairy." Bronn chuckled to himself. Jaime smiled at this, he liked his and Bronn's strange relationship, in a way he was a good friend yet he was also a man that he half expected to slit his throat at any given second. Bronn was very straight to the point and did not care what people thought, in a way that must be so freeing, to not give a fuck ever, however, Jaime was a Lords son, and he would always be a Lords son, therefore he was unable to not give a fuck, even though he really wished he could.

Taking in this information about the armor, that evening when they broke for camp Jaime went around and begin instructing the captains to instruct their forces to place leather, wool and whatever fabric they could find to the inside of their armor to combat the cold. Jaime himself used old strips of leather and some wool to line the insides of his. When this was done their next day of marching was remarkably improved and a few men even broke into a song they were in such high spirits. Jaime made sure to thank Bronn by giving him twice the allotted breakfast for that morning.

That day had seemed to be one of the better until Jaime saw ahead to the bleak and cloudy overhung gray sky that began to loom and encircle them. Without warning, snow began to fall in thick sheets, although there was no wind the temperature dropped steadily until Jaime could see his breath leaving his body in a thick fog. The snow that fell from the cursed heavens was fat and heavy seeming to want to drag everyone down with it, the carts would get stuck and men and horse alike struggled with it. Jaime could barely see ahead due to its strange soup-like consistency. Jaime battling the wind pushed his horse ahead, they needed to find somewhere to escape the storm. Ideally, he would have liked a large hill or line of trees to hide against, but the area they were in was flat and sparsely wooded, with many rivers flowing through it.

If worst came to worst they could line the carts in a circle around them to somewhat shield them from the storm, but before it came to that Jaime saw a faint light in the storm. He studied the light it was constant and did not move so he knew it either had to be a campfire or possibly the light to a house, if there was a house there was a chance for a barn or stables, a place where the men could shelter, although only few would fit, it would be better than none. Jaime pushed Night hard, he did not want to but it was important that they made it there, Night was tired but was willing.

As they edged closer to the light, Jaime saw several large outlines of buildings, this place looked very promising indeed. The men must have also seen these buildings for all of them began to push harder. Jaime worked his way to the front of the line. As he neared this place he was able to work out more of what he saw, nestled on the top of a hill stood a long single-story brick and mortar house. The light he saw was coming from the window where Jaime could see a fire burning warm and inviting. To his left, he could see a long low barn where the faint bleatings of sheep could be heard from within. 

Straight ahead past the house was two giant stone warehouses. ' _Gods be praised_ ' he thought to himself before half falling of Night to lead the horse by the reins towards the house. Jaime grunted as he dragged his feet through the snow, it was blanketing itself thicker with each passing moment. Jaime could barely feel any of his extremities, his face felt frozen in place with stinging pain. He made his way closer to the door, he was exhausted and tired and wanted to just collapse in front of the fire. The door opened and a figure emerged holding a lantern high at its head. 

A man's voice called out "Who goes there?" a man's voice called out the light swinging towards Jaime who then held up his gold hand in reply. For a few seconds, he couldn't find his voice to speak. But once he did he croaked out "Jaime Lannister, I humbly ask for shelter for me and my men." Jaime turned and glanced behind him. There stood his army a collective assembly of shivering exhausted men who stood looking miserable and pleaded with their eyes like children begging for an extra sweet. The man lowered the lantern, Jaime was now able to make out the man, he gazed at the gaunt face and sunken eyes, thick dark hair with streaks of white near the temples the man was haggard as much as Jaime.

For a second Jaime wondered if the man would turn them away but after a few seconds, a pitying look came to the man's eyes. "I can't feed you but there is room in the warehouses and barn, mind you don't touch anything, and no killing any sheep!"  Jaime nearly collapsed from thankfulness. He had no idea what he would have done if the man turned them away. Jaime turned to his men "Go to the warehouses, get yourselves warm, take the horses and put them wherever they can fit, do not touch or harm anything, we are his guests." 

The men shambled off stumbling from the cold. Jaime glanced over to see Bronn ride up, for once he did not have his usual smug look. Instead, he was worn and tired just as much as himself "Tell the cooks to give extra tonight, out scouts took two deer this morning that should be enough to give the men extra." Bronn nodded and did so without reply. Jaime turned to the man "I apologize Si-" "Randolph, Randolph Razcoff of Razcoff and Son's Textiles." Jaime simply nodded he recognized the name as one of the larger textiles merchants but he never knew where they were based, now he did. 

"Thank-you Randolph, the storm hit us before we could make camp, I tried to find a place to shelter when I saw your fire" Jaime explained gesturing to the fire. Razcoff glanced at it then to Jaime "Oh, apologies my lord come in!" Then Razcoff turned and yelled into the house "Eryn! be a good lad and help our guests with their horses, the lower barn run is empty have em fill in there!" Suddenly a young lad maybe ten and three came to the door jamming his feet into very warm looking boots and donning a thick wool cloak. 

"Yes, father" he replied and took the reins from Jaime. "Do not worry about feeding them, we have plenty of supplies for that," Jaime instructed the young boy as he scampered off into the snow with Night in tow. Jaime staggered up the steps and into the warmth of the house. The heat enveloped him like a long lost lover, and instantly he felt his body begin to relax a wave of tiredness washed over him. He was guided to a chair next to the fire and he collapsed into it, casting aside his many layers of wrapping around his face. 

The snow that had been frozen to his armor and clothing began to melt away, he now felt sopping wet and uncomfortable. He lay his scarves at his feet and began to undo his armor. He then realized how rude he was acting at this moment. He inwardly groaned but turned to his humble host and smiled "I apologize for my manners, it was a long journey" Randolph who was standing off near a dinner table waved him off "No worries my Lord, I understand completely." Jaime who was now able to relax took his time to study the man and his home. 

Randolph was dressed in thick and although not luxurious looking attire, it had a fine quality to the material that made up his long coat and pants. On his feet were finely made leather boots fringed with fur. Most everything about the man was about the same quality, the items in his house were finely made but were not extravagant in appearance, it was all made for usability and durability instead of display. Next to the man stood a worried petite woman, she had mousy brown hair and a doughy face, but Jaime could tell she was very kind from the way her eyes shone in the firelight. 

Interestingly though Jaime noted both the man and his wife had gaunt cheeks and sunken eyes while the four children that sat at the table ranged in varying degrees of plumpness, with the youngest child a girl who was the only one of the children with full and fat cheeks. The wife kept absent-mindedly grabbing for a necklace that was not there, and as Jaime studied the contents of the house he noted awkward empty spaces from where furniture and items had been. 

These people were on hard times that was obvious to Jaime. "Randolph was it?" Jaime asked pointedly. Randolph nodded "I thank you once again formally for helping us in our time of need if you were to need anything at all if it is in our power name it and we shall grant it." Randolph glanced sheepishly down to the floor. "My Lord is too kind, I am ashamed to ask for anything." Jaime tilted his head in confusion but pressed the man for an answer "You do not need to be ashamed, surely there is something I could give or grant to help you?"

Randolph glanced to his wife who motioned him to answer. Randolph stepped forward clearing his throat tentatively. "A pardon my Lord." Jaime was genuinely confused "a pardon?" he asked. Randolph nodded vigorously then proceeded to throw himself into the chair next to Jaime. "My Lord, this mill has been run by my family for generations, we have served all our customers well and true as we can, however, my eldest son Randell, he made a grave mistake on one of the largest orders we have." 

Jaime bid the man to go on. Randolph's wife served Jaime a cup of watered-down wine but he did not complain about it was warm and it tasted fine enough.  "What did this Radell do?" Jaime asked sipping down his warmed wine. "An order of 600 cloaks and mittens, cloaks that were to be dyed white and the mittens gray, using the finest of our wool." Randolph began explaining, he stared into the fire as he recounted his tale.

"It was for a nearby Lesser Lord, but a Lord none the less, Lord Mongert is his name...he is nicknamed Lord Mongert the Mongerer." Jaime sat back in his chair and mulled over as Randolph spoke, it was surprising to Jaime how many lesser Lords seem to exist in Westeros, and how interacted with one another freely and without any second care. It made Jaime realize that there were things going on in Westeros that the crown had no idea of, and would never see coming. 

Imagine if all these small Lords rose up against the large Lords, sure the small Lords may not have as many resources as the Liege Lords, but with their resources and efforts combined? They could hit, attack and retreat from larger forces easily, whittle away at their numbers and cause so much disarray that even the strongest of armies would fall apart. "I see so this order must have not been made to Lord Mongert's liking?" Jaime asked Randolph aloud

Randolph sat stiffly, his face grim. "You would be correct my Lord, my foolish son flopped the colors, so instead we made 600 gray cloaks and 600 white mittens...oh my foolish son!" Randolph began to wail collapsing over in his chair his head hanging between his legs, weeping with his hands pressed against his face. Jaime was taken aback by this, glanced to his wine cup then back to the man, then averted his eyes to the fire before glancing towards Randolph's wife in a plea of help.

She stood leaning forlornly against the wall, her arms wrapped around her chest, one hand rubbing a spot on her neckline. Jaime could see the faint tears in her eyes. As Randolph continued to sob Jaime felt a tightening in his throat, things began to click in his mind, an order that large being messed up, the missing items, the sunken faces of nearly everyone in this house, it all led Jaime to one thing they were destitute. They were selling all they had to keep the children fed. Jaime wondered why not slaughter the sheep, but he realized their wool was their only means to make money, no matter how hungry they got they would most likely refuse to eat their livelihood.

Randolph spoke in broken sobs "Lord Mongert blacklisted us, no one will buy from us and I can do nothing about it!"  Jaime felt a resolve build in him, he felt angry looking at Randolph's defeated form, angry at the things happening that no one seemed to know about or cared, angry that a Lord could be so superficial on colors. But then again Jaime realized hadn't his father did the same? If something wasn't to his father's liking he would scorn that maker, go to a different one or force that person to remake it better and to his liking with no thought as to the cost. 

These were simple honest folk, folk that even though they were at their very lowest, opened up their doors and offered them a place beside their hearth. It was in this moment, sitting beside this fire and seeing this family he realized how much needed to change in this world, they had nothing and yet they still gave all they had. Silently Jaime stood and walked over to Randolph, he placed his good hand on his shoulder "I am sorry that this Lord has done this to your family, I shall let the Queen know at once until I can repay my debt to you allow me help in other ways, we have food supplies that we can spare I will tell the cooks to give you what we can, I shall also send some men to this Lord Mongert I will bid him in the name of the Queen Cersei to provide 20 fat steers for the royal forces, five of which I will give your family to eat or sell, whichever you see fit."

Randolph stared up at him his eyes watering and the look of pure disbelief followed by one of utter joy and thankfulness. Randolph threw himself at Jaime's feet. Jaime was shocked at this action and stepped backward unsure of how to deal with such display. People had kneeled to him and his family for years but nothing like this, not really anyway. Jaime glanced over to the man's wife. She to had collapsed against the wall, tears streaming down her face as she looked upwards her lips fervently moving as she silently prayed.

When Randolph was able to get ahold of himself he stood. To see a man brought to such tears and to not be embarrassed by it. Gave Jaime some time to pause in reflection. But he was unable to do so for long, a knock on the door was heard. Jaime excused himself and went to it, he opened it carefully so he did not let too much snow or wind in. It was Bronn who looked cold but and exhausted the boy that had left the house was now back he stumbled in past Jaime.

Jaime glanced down as the child Eryn wasn't it? scuttled over to the fire and began to warm his backside. Bronn stood in the doorway looking haggard Jaime found Bronn a chair and offered it to him. Bronn collapsed into it. Jaime cleared his throat "Randolph this is my Lieutenant-Commander Ser Bronn" Bronn put two fingers up in greetings. Randolph quickly wiped his face and got another cop of wine. Jaime intercepted him and said, "allow me, I must have a word with him anyway." Randolph nodded and handed over the wine and cup.

Jaime walked back to Bronn who was rubbing his hands and blowing into them. "Here, this is all they have for wine, we are their guests so just drink and don't complain," he whispered quietly to Bronn. If Bronn had a reply he did not say, he only accepted the drink and drank it greedily. If he was bothered by the taste he did not let it show. Jaime nodded and returned the wine and cup to the table. When he did this the young girl piped up "Why is your hand funny?" she asked pointing to his golden hand.

Her mother choked back a screech and hurriedly came to the child's side to give a small dose of discipline but Jaime held his good hand up "No need for that Ma'm, it is fine" Jaime knelt down and held the hand out so the child could see and touch it. "Back during the war of five kings, I'm afraid I got in a fight with Robb Stark's direwolf and the beast bit it right off." The girl's blue eyes went wide with surprise.

In fact, all four of the young children at the table went wild with surprise and then the questions began. One after another 

"What did it look like!?" Piped up the one son.

"As large as a horse" Jaime answered

"Was there only one?" a different son asked 

"Only one, but all Stark children had one at one time," he replied turning to that child.

"Where is it now?" asked the girl

"It was killed by the Frays," he said downcast, he thought a beast like that deserved a decent death.

"Did it hurt when it came off?" The final boy asked curiously.

Jaime shuddered at the memory "Yes, extremely I was in a daze for many days after."

From there the children asked questions about his prosthetic was it heavy? Could he move it? Was there a secret compartment? A hidden blade? once after another their curiosity had no limit. All the while Jaime was happy to answer, he loved children, they were innocent and naturally kind, his only wish in life had always been to be able to be a father to his own, a chance that he now sadly would not be able to have.

After more time and question had passed their mother stepped in "Now now children, that is enough Alise, Bernard, Robyn, Razolf, and Eryn" she said turning her head across the room to where Eryn sat huddled near the fire "It is time for bed, let's go." One by one the children and her disappeared into a back room. Bronn got up from his chair and strode over to the table and sat with Jaime. He had a small grin to his face "What?" Jaime asked.

Bronn shrugged "You are good with children, usually I can't stand when they pester me like that." he fiddled with his cup for a few seconds. Jaime remained silent before changing the subject. "I have told Randolph we would spare some food for him and his family as well as procuring some steers for him from one Lord Mongert." Bronn raised an eyebrow quizzically. Jaime sighed and went into an explanation.

After he had explained what Randolph had told him Bronn shook his head exasperated "Do we really have time for you to act the noble Knight of all the realm?" Jaime frowned at him "It wasn't right what happened to him and his family, and it's the least we can do for them to offer us a place to rest, would you rather be sleeping out in that storm?" Bronn groaned under his breath but did not reply to Jaime's statement.

After some time had passed, Jaime and Bronn sat at the table discussing their next movements when the door suddenly opened. Bronn stood and his hand went to his sword. A startled young man carrying two thin and scraggly looking rabbits froze in place next to the door. The man looked half frozen with the snow that encased him. He gulped his eyes darting to Bronn and Jaime before he stammered out "I am Randell Razcoff! I mean no harm" Bronn took his hand away from his sword hilt and sat back down. "Welcome home then Randell, I am Jaime Lannister and this is Ser Bronn, we are accommodating your father's warehouses at the moment." Jaime explained to Randell.

Randell made no reply instead began to disrobe from his many layers of clothing. While he did this there was an awkward silence in the room Randell's father Randolph remained silent, in fact, he seemed to be doing his best to ignore his son. Sheepishly Randell brought his rabbits over in front of his father "I brought us some rabbits, they aren't the largest but mother could probably make some stew out of them, and their skin looks fine and healthy, could make small pouches from em father." Randolph glanced down at the rabbits his only reply was a wordless 'Hn' before he turned away and stared into the fire. Randell looked deflated, he walked over to the table and slumped into a seat next to Jaime.

Jaime and Bronn shared questioning glances, Bronn shrugged with both of his shoulders before returning back to drinking his wine in silence. Randell stared down at the dead rabbits their frozen eyes stared up at him in terror. Wordlessly he began the task of skinning them. Bronn and Jaime watched him for a bit before Bronn commented that putting them up by the fire and letting them warm up would make the skinning process go a lot better. Randell stared up at Bronn for a few seconds before nodding slowly.

He stood and did as Bronn said then returned back to the table. Audibly Jaime heard the young man's stomach growl. Jaime looked at the table, all the plates were picked bare. "Bronn, why don't you go see if there is any leftover food from the cook line, I am sure by now our men have eaten." Bronn nodded and stood gathered his supplies and left. When he was gone Randell glanced over at Jaime "I have brought shame on my family, I do not deserve to eat."

Jaime felt pitiful staring into those hallow listless brown eyes. Jaime craned his neck around to glance towards Randolph. Randolph kept staring into the fire making no attempt to turn towards them. Jaime understood the man's anger and disappointment but one should not hold it over forever, Randell was still his son, it was a mistake, a costly one but a mistake nonetheless one that anyone could have made.

"I have brought shame on my family" Jaime replied looking back to Randell. "my father Tywin, was a hard man to please, he expected the best from everyone, when I lost the battle of the Whispering Wood, my father seemed to care more about what battle tactics I used instead of the countless lives of the bannermen that I lost." Jaime glanced down at his empty cup "When I was taken prisoner by the Starks and had my hand cut off, my father was more worried about how that would look to the other Houses instead of well...you know caring for me."

Jaime softened his eyes towards Randell "I could go on with my mistakes, what I am trying to say is Son's will make mistakes, mistakes that can cost family's greatly, but as long as the son learns from them and try their best to do what is right....well I just hope that the fathers would have more sense then mine did, and forgive the son rather than blame him, after all, sons are what carry on their legacy."

There was a silence within the home. Jaime turned and gave Randolph a knowing look before he stood and stretched. A single knock at the door caught his attention as Bronn pushed his way in with a small kettle of soup and two small loaves of bread. Quickly he brought it to the table. Jaime grabbed a bowl from Bronn and ladled himself a portion of the thick stew. The brown broth swirled with thick chunks of venison, potatoes, beans, and onion the intoxicating aroma of the soup filled the house.

Jaime tucked into his bowl quickly, the weeks on the road had finally deteriorated his more 'gentlemanly' eating manners and he now dove into his food like the rest of his men. Bronn joined in right away. Jaime paused in his eating only once to slide an empty bowl towards Randell then gestured with his eyes let him now it was okay to help himself. Randell needed no extra urging. He stood and served himself then sat down with them and began to tuck in.

The three men ate in peaceful silence. Jaime heard footsteps behind them. He turned to see Randolph who looked hungrily at the stew. Jaime glanced to Bronn then to the large kettle of soup Bronn nodded. There was plenty to go around. Randolph joined them, and soon enough one by one a small child dressed in simple sleeping smocks began to eagerly run out to the table. Soon the entire table was filled with hungry adults and children slurping away at stew and bread.

Even the wife, whose name Jaime later found out was named Aliysse had joined them. As Jaime glanced around the table he couldn't help but grin, it felt good to provide such the simplest of pleasures. There was nothing like good company, good food, and a warm fire to make all the dark terrors of the world fade away. When all the stew had been eaten and the bread was reduced to crumbs the entire family sat back and relished in the feeling of full bellies.

Jaime found it hard to keep his eyes open all of a sudden so he excused himself "Thank-you Randolph, please forgive me but I must retire." Randolph nodded "Would...would you like to sleep here in the house?" Jaime shook his head "No, I should return to my men and see how they are faring, but thank-you for the generosity." Randolph nodded "It is no problem, I should be thanking you, you have helped us more than we ever could."

Saying goodbyes to all of them Jaime donned his now dry clothes and armor before making his way outside. Thankfully the snow had subsided to a very light fall. Jaime glanced around at it, snow could be beautiful at times like this. Where it fell gracefully down like millions of feathers from a pillow that had been flung too hard. He pushed his way through the snow, following in the pathways others had cut through.

Once he made it across the yard to the first warehouse he stood in the doorway and peered into the dark building. He saw piles and piles of square packages and boxes, bolts of random fabric stood and lay here and there, men lay wherever they could fit, as close as one could sleep to another, piling in with each other in dog piles. Jaime saw a few small fires lit on dry areas cleaned of all debris, a man or two stood to watch over the fires. Jaime was surprised to see the men all sleeping soundly, nearly everyone he saw was tucked in with their gray blankets. He shrugged and walked over to the next warehouse. 

It was the same scene as before, men sleeping amongst each other curled up soundly with their matching gray blankets. Jaime in his tiredness paid no mind and retired instead to the barn where the horses were placed. The horses ate quietly or slept standing, occasionally rocking from one foot to the next while they slept. Jaime was fighting sleep now and when he made it to the stall that Night had to himself he collapsed in a pile of straw, next to his horse. The straw prickled at his skin but Jaime couldn't care less he just managed to take off his breastplate before succumbing to sleep.

The next thing he knew he was being prodded awake by a dark whiskered muzzle. He gently pushed Nights face away, grumpy from being awoken so early. He sat up yawning and adjusting his gray woolen blanket. He turned over and made himself comfortable, he had just cradled his head in his arm when he sat straight up He glanced down and lifted the gray blanket in his hand. Where did this come from? Upon further inspection he realized this was not a blanket, it was a thick cloak, a finely made woolen cloak that was soft and warm and was most certainly not his to be using.

He angrily stood up, upset for having to be awake so early. He glared at Night but relented and gave the horse some feed. Once Night was happily fed Jaime dressed, pulled out the straw that had stuck to his body and head and combed through his hair with his fingers. He scratched at his gruff beard as he walked out of his stall still holding the cloak. When he made his way to the warehouse he entered to see men milling about wearing the cloaks about their shoulders, others were still sleeping, wrapped warmly within them.

All around him men were talking and walking about doing their morning routines, and each and everyone had a gray cloak, Lannister, Eggert and all the rest. Glancing around in confusion Jaime spotted nearby crates with lids taken off, he walked over and saw a few neatly folded cloaks. Jaime glowered before yelling out "Who's idea was it to ignore the rule to touch nothing!?" Jaime bellowed out. Silence fell upon the warehouse in an instant all men froze and anyone sleeping was now awake and sitting up. All the men had a fearful look on their face before one by one they turned their heads or flicked their eyes to land on one person, Samson Swyft.

Samson meekly walked forward till he stood in front of Jaime. He stared down at the ground "It was me my Lord." Samson admitted quietly. Jaime was silent for a moment, he closed his eyes how the heck was he going to punish this? "I know it was wrong to do Sir, it's just that I don't know what we would have done without them, our blankets aren't as warm and all of them were wet from the storm, we just acted in self-interest, my Lord." Jaime glanced down to the cloak he had, it was true, he slept soundly through the night without ever having a shiver. "I see, but you do understand that these were not ours to take, they were meant for a Lord Mongert." Jaime replied as he folded the cloak in his arms. Samson looked defeated as he waited patiently for reprimanding. Jaime pursed his lips an idea coming to mind "However" he began, catching Samson's attention causing the man to lift his head up to meet his eye.  "Lord Mongert canceled his order and has blacklisted this mill so perhaps out gracious hosts would be willing to sell them to us," Jaime said as he gave Samson a knowing look. 

Jaime studied Samson for a few moments "Samson, I have a task for you" Samson straightened up squaring his shoulders, he was the perfect soldier always willing and ready. Jaime chuckled at this "gather up twenty of your best men and ride for Lord Mongert's hold, Randolph said that it was down the road a few miles to the right, can't miss it. You will go and in the name of Queen Cersei demand payment of twenty fat steers, do not leave his hold without them do you understand?" Jaime said his eyes narrowing as he stared into Samson's.

Samson met his gaze and nodded understanding. "You have my permission to threaten him if need be," Jaime added quietly. Samson saluted him before answering an energetic "Yes Sir!" Jaime smirked as Samson bounded off to gather his men. Jaime turned to the rest of the men, all their eyes on him. "Gather up what coin you can spare if you all like these cloaks that much you must be willing to give something for them," he told them. A flurry of movement was beginning to take hold as men gathered up what little money they could spare, squadron by squadron they gave all they could to their captains to turn into Jaime. Soon a few medium-sized bags of coin had been produced, nearly every man contributed some money towards the cloak fund, be it a simple copper or even a few gave gold. Jaime himself gave all his gold except twenty pieces to the fund.

When he had all the bags gathered, and the men broke to line up for breakfast, Jaime left the warehouse and he walked up to Randolph's house. The morning was bright and strangely enough cheery. Jaime knocked awkwardly with his foot, his arms full from the bags of coin. Ailysse opened the door, she smiled at him cheerfully as he staggered into the house. Randolph stared at Jaime confused "I am afraid Randolph that my men have betrayed our trust, they opened your supplies and used your cloaks as blankets last night to keep them warm." Jaime professed as he just managed to keep himself from dropping coin bags. Randolph stood there confused, he was not angry which surprised Jaime. "Because they are now used and wore, they have come up with some coin to purchase them, I am unsure if it would be enough." He explained as he walked over to the table.

The four bags of coin tumbled out of Jaime's arms in a cacophony of dull thuds. Randolph walked over and picked one up, undoing the tie he opened the bag and his mouth dropped. His wife stepped up beside him and peered in. Her face lightened up immediately. "This....this is...it is not what they are worth...."  Randolph began his voice strained. Jaime's heart skipped a beat and his stomach dropped "However it is more than what we need to survive winter, and that is all that matters."  Randolph said tying up the bag, he then eagerly turned to Jaime and shook his hand so hard Jaime's teeth and armor rattled, "With this money and with the food, you are giving us we will have enough to last winter!" His children ran to him and hugged him, Randolph brought his wife in and kissed her as he embraced her happily. 

Randell, Randolph's oldest stood apart from his family unsure of what to do. Suddenly Randolph extended a hand out to him. "Randell" he said quietly. Randolph's other children parted from him and stared up at their older brother. Randell stood there confused. "Come," Randolph said motioning to him. Randell walked up to his father his eyes cast downward. Randolph put a hand on his shoulder. "You made a mistake, one that I have punished far too severely, the mistake was mine to leave you to do that order by yourself, I should have been there to teach you." Randell was crying as he stared into his father's eyes, Jaime could see how much this meant to him.

"The name is Razcoff and sons, you are my son and heir," He said pointing into Randell's chest. "You are a part of my legacy, It is my duty as your father to give you all the tools you need to succeed, come spring we shall sell everything and start up new somewhere else, where we will work together, all of us." He said bringing his other children in. The family hugged one another. Jaime waited patiently for a few seconds before he smiled "I hope that you find prosperity wherever you go, you are skilled and your product is worth every copper." Randolph nodded "Yes, I hope so, I will teach them all I can." Randolph said glancing down to his children Jaime nodded his words from last night did not fall on deaf ears. 

That morning Jaime joined the family for breakfast, he told them of the battle of the GoldRoad and how large Daenerys dragon was. The children, of course, loved hearing the story of the dragon and begged for more so he told them about the skulls in the dungeons and all the stories he could recall of Balerion. Around midday, his soldiers returned with twenty fat steers. Samson grinned as the steers were led into the barn. Jaime tossed him a gray cloak and a pair of white mittens, these were given freely thanks to Randolph. After the steers were delivered them men were ordered to mount up and move out. Down the road, they went gray cloaks fluttering in the wind and swaying with their marching. Jaime sat on Night overlooking his army, now striding in matching attire heading north to Winterfell. Jaime wrapped his own gray cloak around his neck and nodded to Randolph, Jaime could see the younger children waving at him from the window.

Jaime waved to them and said goodbye, he shook Randolph's hand one last time before moving his horse down the road marching alongside his men. Ser Bronn rode up to him and walked his horse next to Jaime they trotted down the road past them and found their specific place in the middle of the line. Jaime turned to Bronn "Why put that cloak on me didn't you?" he asked. Bronn was silent for a bit before answering "You looked cold, thought it would be bad if you got sick, we kinda need you as our commander."

Jaime grinned and shook his head "Didn't know you cared about me." Bronn glared at him but did not deny it. Down the road they went, Jaime Lannister and Ser Bronn of the Blackwater leading their army of Graycloaks.


	20. Chapter 20 -Building-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick little chapter from Cersei's point of view.  
> Warnings Implied Rape.

_Cersei Lannister_

The Lion Queen surveyed her people from her perch on the balcony high above. Up here the populace of King's Landing looked like tiny ants scuttling around their heads far to occupied in their work to look up at her. She was their monarch, their ruler she had climbed and fought with both her claws and her wiles to get to where she was now. She placed a hand on her firm belly, the life inside her was just now blooming enough to be seen.

She smiled down at her future prince, she knew it was a boy she could always tell with all of her pregnancy's. When she had boys she craved yellow cheeses, when she was pregnant with Myrcella she had craved fruits and sweets. Absentmindedly she rubbed her belly relishing in the feeling of her futile womb. She turned away from her window and walked over to her desk, pulling the hem of her gown to the side she descended down into her chair, taking the mind to keep her neck and back straight so as to not upset her golden crown. 

The sound of seagulls filtered through her shuttered windows, she leaned back and listened to them as she contemplated what she should do next. On all sides of her desk was rolled up parchments and papers. She could scarcely recall what all of them were for, most were probably letters from lesser houses pleading for the crown to send them food supplies, she would ignore those. Others were most likely messages about sightings of the DragonQueen's forces.

The thought of Daenerys Targaryen made Cersei's thoughts bitter. A simple girl of ten and eight with a horde of Dothraki, unsullied and now the Northern fools. She shook her head  _'How does the North keep breeding men for their armies? one would think they have run out by now.'_ Cersei snorted her pregnancy mind must already be getting the best of her, she had forgotten the Targaryen girls dragons, it was said she had three but now she believes those numbers may have changed, there were conflicting accounts but Cersei believed the girl only had two.

Still, two dragons were more than what she had, and even one dragon could turn any tide in Daenerys favor, the Battle of the Gold Road proved it so. Thinking back to that day when she saw Jaime covered in ash and mud, his eyes twisting in bewilderment and true fear. It confused her at first seeing the fear in his eyes, usually he was too stupid to know fear, he had always been the ever gallant and brave Knight plunging headfirst into battle, but the man who had returned on that day after battling Dothraki and a Dragon, that was not her Jaime, not the one she knew anyway.

Cersei smiled to herself as she remembered old memories of them together, how she would sneak out of her bedchambers back at home in Casterly Rock, she would scurry into his room where he would be waiting. Already unclothed the moonlight and stars shining down unto his bed, the sheets delicate silk dyed a rich burgundy, the red of House Lannister. His form would glow under the light, his golden locks long and flowing just like hers, his eyes a piercing green.

His eyes would wander down her forme undressing her as they did. She remembered how she would all but leap into his arms and into his bed, he would rip away her nightgown despite her telling him no, it was no matter she would have a maid stitch it in the morning. Then together they would come together bodies melting into each other, hands entangled him pressing down on her pinning her into place, his mouth finding all the right placed on her neck.

Cersei would always try to cry out in pleasure, but Jaime would make sure not a sound escaped, no one could know not ever or they would be taken away from one another.  When their coupling would finally come to an end she would lay there beside him wishing she could stay there always, it felt constricting to be apart from him. They had shared the same womb why shouldn't they share the same bed?

Sometimes they would talk, Jaime would come up with plans to run away to an island of their own, build a house and be with one another till the end of their days. Cersei would let him talk on, but she never told him that it would never work, she couldn't imagine lowering herself to do common house chores, that was for servants. But she allowed him his flights of fancy, preferring then to just staring at his young face how beautiful it was back then, or she would trace along his abdomen and chest outlining each muscle as she did.

Cersei brought herself away from those memories, they were only that now. Now they were older, she a Queen he a Knight-Commander of the Queen's Guard...or at least he was, now he was Jaime Lannister the exile? Perhaps not ever that. She frowned as she read her latest message, it was sent from Lord Huguet Mongert, Cersei had to pause and open a book of lesser lords to find him before she could continue with his letter.

She skipped past the usual pleasantries, how his house is ever loyal and he hopes the crown is faring well,  _'Get on with it you oaf, I have half a mind to toss your letter.'_ But finally she came to the real details of the letter, apparently, her armies needed twenty of his steers to feed them as they traveled North. Cersei exhaled through her nose as she glanced over to an older letter folded up on the edge of her desk, it was one Jaime had written himself and sent it using a Raven from Lord Eggert.

Cersei had allowed Jaime his 'army' what harm could they really do? Although it was irritating that so many Lannister men decided to be traitors at least she knew that most if not all would die fighting those... _things_. But now Jaime's little army has grown in size, still a paltry sum maybe 500 at the most, but it was still Jaime Lannister leading them, and Jaime was still using his connections to her to feed them, cloth them and arm them.

She was conflicted with this, on one hand, Jaime was right the Lord's helping him were lesser Lords that she had not a care about so what did it matter if they threw supplies at Jaime's army, but on the other hand, it was setting up a precedent one that could be construed as weakness. Troubled she began to wring her fingers together, her gold and ruby ring's clacking against one another had a somewhat calming effect on her. 

She thought back to the note  _'Out of love for the mother that bore us, and for the blood that we share.'_ She could picture his pleading eyes in her mind. She gave in, "Fine," she said out loud. "Have your little army brother, for it will be the last army you lead, let all of you die as traitors and fools following the stupidest Lannister to be born." She grabbed her quill and dabbed it in ink, the began to write a reply to this Lord Mongert thanking him for the supplies for the royal army. She set the quill to dry then called for a servant.

She handed the letter off making sure not to let her fingers touch the servants. "Send this Lord Mongert coin for his steers, whatever the going rate is for them." Cersei then waved off the servant before continuing to the next letter. She had just opened it when sounds began to come from the hall just outside her door. She glanced up to see Euron Grayjoy bantering with her guards at the door, instinctively she felt herself recoil.

But being a Noble Lady in Westeros she did what all ladies had been taught from the cradle, smile and act nice. She rose from her seat and crossed her hands in front of her, as she did her burgundy gown flowed out from her. She loved this dress, the bodice fight her nicely and provided her with some protection, the shoulder pouldrons, although heavy gave her the look of a strong Queen, gone were the days of golden flowers and plunging necklines, she was a Queen of strength and ferocity, she was the Lion Queen and all would hear her roar.

"Let him enter." She commanded her guards. She saw the slight dip from each of their helmets as they nodded their heads. Euron grinned from ear to ear, his eyes wild and crazed like a rabid dog, she had come to accept this was his usual look. It was moments like this when she watched the 'King' of the Iron Islands saunter in his arms outstretched. He reeked of cheap ale and even cheaper whores. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

Euron came up to her, she had to hold her breath as she received a kiss on the cheek from him. She plastered on a fake smile "Euron, we are pleased to see you, how fares you today?" she asked him beckoning to the chair on the other side of the table. Euron said nothing instead he grabbed the goblet of wine sitting on a side table nearby. Everything he did, be it walking, moving, talking all of it he did with a know it all swagger.

Honestly, she was impressed, she did not think even she could keep that type of energy up all day. Euron plopped into the chair she had beckoned to, it's wood squeaked out as he then began to place his feet up on her table. She ignored them and sat back down. Euron poured himself a generous glass and began to drink like one would if one was in a competition. Cersei smiled in amusement, Euron could very much be the only man she knew who could out drink her late husband Robert Baratheon, the Usurper. 

"I'm afraid I don't fare too well today," Euron said looking disenchanted at his goblet. Cersei tilted her head "Oh, and why is that?" she asked him. "I just heard the news, apparently my little nephew Theon grew some balls, he freed his sister Yara from my ship, killed a few of my men too." "I am sorry to hear that," Cersei said to him. Euron shrugged "Didn't have much use for her, she was mostly a bargaining chip for the DragonQueen, but I don't think we have to worry about her now...joining the North fighting the dead...the tales they will sing if they live." 

That sentiment caught Cersei off guard "You think they will? 100,000 dead men against all their forces? Even with dragons, I don't think many will survive...and if they do well we have the Golden company now...thanks to you." Absently she brought her hand to her belly. Euron saw this and grinned he stood up and came over to her side of the table. He pushed himself up onto the table, not caring that he ripped papers under him as he did so.

He stared down at her, for a few seconds a rare softness came to his eyes. Euron's hand slid down and joined her's on her belly. She fought back the shiver of revulsion and instead chose to keep her eyes staring into his. Euron smirked, "Thanks to me, the crown will have a future prince, but seeing as you are already so big...either you have gotten fat or I put a pair of twins in you." He then laughed, showing his teeth like a horse he leaned back and drank down some more wine.

Cersei had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop her face from contorting into anger at him.  _'We need him to think the baby is his, the crown needs him for a little while longer...and then I will send him for a walk on a very short plank, perhaps his drowned god will take pity on him, who knows.'_ she told herself this as she shifted away from him slightly. "I can assure you all of this is babe, perhaps you did bless us with twins."

Euron removed his hand and stood. He sat back down in his chair, sprawling himself out like he owned everything in the world. "Hopefully, it is twin boys, if one's a girl and ones a boy, we will have to lock em up away from another, just to be safe..in case they have some inherited family quirks." This time Cersei could not stop the anger that burned in her cheeks. Euron lifted a brow then laughed "I am kidding love! Twas only a jest, if they are twins, they shall be boys, one shall be a Lion and the other a Kraken."

Cersei softened her face and turned away, it was taxing to deal with this man. "Surely you did not come here just for jests."  Euron put his hands up "Of course not! I am here because I am a loyal and true servant of the crown...and because I love my Queen." Euron bound up from his chair, a move so sudden it startled her but she did not let it show. "Look my Queen, outside to the harbor, the Iron fleet stands at the ready for the crown, and here we wait, wintering down here so far from home...for you." With each word, he inched closer and closer to her. 

When he was within grabbing distance he clamped a hand down on her wrist and pulled her into a close embrace. He held her, his arm wrapped around her waist, her face only inches away from his. His hot breath, stinking of wine and sea salt covered her in a musk.  "I have done so much for you, I have killed for you, lied for you...betrayed my own blood...all of it for you...Cersei Lannister the most beautiful woman I have ever seen...you are all I have ever wanted."

Euron pressed his forehead into her neck and chest, "Everything about you drives me wild." Cersei could already tell where this conversation was going, she closed her eyes and mentally braced herself for it. Euron's hands wandered up and down her torso, it took all she had to not slap them away. When he finally began to kiss her, she closed her eyes and moved her lips with his. He was impassioned and filled with lust, she was doing all she could to keep the bile in her throat form coming out.

When he finally pushed her to the bed and tore at her gown she was thankful he pushed her face down. At least then she wouldn't have to look at his face, and at least then she wouldn't need to hide her tears. She felt a few seams of her gown go, she bit her lip and groaned, a servant would have to mend that afterword.  While Euron did his best to please himself Cersei brought a hand down and pressed against her belly to where her babe grew, without thinking Jaime's words, the ones he said so long ago came fresh into her mind  _'the things we do for love'._

She bit her other hand hard, holding back the sobs that were forcing their way out of her while Euron forced himself in harder.  _'_ This soon became her mantra in her mind, she let those words envelop her, she used them together like brick and mortar to build a wall around her and there inside her safe walls the Lion Queen curled up and waited for the coming of spring.


	21. Chapter 21 -Winterfell-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are getting so close to the reveal guys I am so excited! This is going to be fun!

_Sigligon Dilis_

The wagon rumbled down the road loudly, the wagon clattered and jolted roughly despite Siglgion's additions. She gripped the wood of the wagon seat tightly and clenched her teeth as the wagon passed over another large rut. The road to Winterfell was nothing but ruts and ice. "I suppose there had been a lot of travel coming here recently and the road just couldn't take it," Korb commented as he steered the horses around a rather large patch of ice. Siglgion scanned the road ahead Winterfell keep was ebbing closer, it's shale gray walls blending into the gray winter skies so much so that if Siglgion squinted the castle's walls disappeared and the keep and winter sky became one entity. 

To the left and right of Winterfell's walls, hundreds if not thousands of tents stood. Their colors and sigils were so numerous that they swirled together into a kaleidoscope of banners. There was a large swath of ground that was fenced off by simple rope and wooden pegs where thousands of horses stood. Black, bay, white, dun, every coat imaginable was there, a living sea that kicked bit and squealed at one another. Studs fought amongst each other in the middle, their piercing screams as they beat and bit their competitors bloody.

Sigligons heart went to the horses, to be cooped up with so many in one area and in such conditions. She caught Korb shaking his head "So many horses together like that are not good, but I suppose they have no other options." he commented again staring out at the penned up horses. As they neared closer to Winterfell they began to see more and more people. Not just people but soldiers, everywhere she looked they stood with their armor and their swords. The metal bits in their armor clanked and clinked with every move. 

Sigligon felt her heart began to race, the need to hide was beginning to take hold. She was not used to so many people, she had lived in relative solitary her entire life, to be out in the world with people, loud people who talked and yelled at one another. Soldiers with their wooden practice swords hammering into the air, only to join in with the actual hammering as other men built wall fortifications. Horses snorting and pounding the frozen grown, clods of ice and rock spraying up as they did. The scents of fire, smoke, sweat and cooking meat filled her nostrils. 

Her hand instinctively reached for Korb's. Korb held it and turned to her his eyes staring into hers in worry. "It's going to be okay, you got this...it's just people, like you and me," he whispered to her reassuring. Sigligon swallowed the dry lump in her throat as they inched ever closer to the main gate. "But there is so many of them," she whispered back staring at all the people. Some looked their way but seemed to ignore them or not care. Sigligon had her hood up from the cold but her face could still be visible and judging from the look on some of the men she surmised that she must have a somewhat pleasant face to look at.

When Sigligon mentioned this to Korb, Korb audibly growled: "I will not let anyone harm you, you have my word." Sigligon felt herself relax slightly, she knew with Korb she would always be safe. "Thank-you" she mouthed to him as she squeezed his hand. Korb gave her two small squeezes back before letting her hand go to help steer the cart. The horses were easy to command and maneuver but traversing the muddy ruts that lead to the main gate required skill and concentration. While Korb saw to the road, Sigligon leaned back and slid opened the front window to their wagon, inside was Tikoros sleeping inside his traveling cage. The entire wagon was as full as they dared to fill, stuffed with all manner of supplies expertly stacked and balanced by her.

Not seeing anything amiss she closed the window and saw that they were now at the gate. There was a string of a few carts also waiting to be in line so Korb took his spot behind one of the others. Slowly the line moved, but it was horrible to sit still, Sigligon grew impatient after some while and chose to get a book from the back of the wagon to read while they waited. This proved to be a terrible idea, for once she slid down from the wagon's seat she immediately found herself sinking into mud, mus that of course caused her to fall forward, luckily she managed to catch herself. 

A voice and a delicate hand extended outwards in front of her. She took it, the heat from the hand warmed through her thin leather riding gloves. Straightening herself up with the help of this mysterious person she looked up into the face of a beautiful woman, perhaps a bit older than her but not by much. Her hair was a vibrant almost unnatural red, that cascaded down and framed her face, she wore an intricate and large ruby choker necklace clasped around her thin and graceful neck. She was clad in only a simple red gown, one with tapered sleeves and a teasing neckline. 

Siglgion was greatly confused, so much so instead of saying thank-you she immediately yelled out "How are you not cold?!" The woman smiled her eyes lighting with an otherworldly fire. Her voice was clear and calm, with only a hint of an accent. "The Lord of Light keeps me warm." Sigligon searched in her mind for a few seconds, she knew that name. "Ah," she said the knowledge coming to her "R'hllor, also known as  _Āeksios Ōño,_ he is worshipped in Essos correct?" she asked the woman. A slight movement in the woman's eyebrow told Sigligon that the woman was surprised. 

"You know of him, and you know High Valyrian...how interesting, not many in Westeros know of it." Sigligon's ears burned, she should not have said that they should be keeping a low profile at least until they meet with their Queen. "Who are you?" the woman asked. "I...I am Sigligon..Sigligon Dilis my Lady." The woman chuckled "I am no Lady, I am only a vessel for the Lord of Light, you may call me Melisandre" she replied smoothly. Sigligon could not help but feel like, although Melisandre was warm, there was a coldness to her.

"Why are you here?" Sigligon asked Melisandre whos gaze had turned slowly to the gate of Winterfell. "I am waiting for when I am needed," she said this in a strange knowing way. Melisandre turned back to her, her dark eyes gazing into hers with a piercing studying look. "You are here to serve the Queen." Sigligon nodded unsure as to how Melisandre knew. There was a long pause before Melisandre held her hand to Sigligon's face, it was warm so warm and comforting Sigligon instinctively relaxed into its heat. "A life within the shadows will be revealed in the fire's light, tread carefully or the fire will take you whole."

Melisandre then stepped away and placed a hood up over her head. She turned up to look at Korb, Sigligon turned around to see Korb staring at them both. Melisandre studied him for a few seconds as well before speaking "You are not alone in this world, you will find your family, your true blood family, they will be both your pride and your downfall." Korb stared at her flabbergasted he choked on a few words but before he could sputter out a reply Melisandre bowed her head "The night is dark and full of terrors," she turned and walked away disappearing into the crowd.

Both Sigligon and Korb stared at one another, confused and befuddled by all means. Sigligon climbed up unto the cart, she decided to forgo the book, she was now contemplating her encounter with this mysterious Melisandre. Korb was silently fuming. Siglgion glanced to him "Are you okay?" she asked him. He frowned and glared at her. "No," he said coldly. "I just was told, I have a family...possibly anyway, and then like that she disappears." Sigligon was silent tentatively she placed a hand on his shoulder. Korb reached up and squeezed it. "I know, you are my family too...but the thought I might have a mother out there...I always wondered you know?" he told her giving her saddened look.

Siglgion nodded, they sat in the wagon for a little while longer, moving up space by space before finally they were at the gates. There several men bearing the sigil of the Stark direwolf on their armor and shields, all of them were silent and pensive, with thick brows furrowed angrily. They looked up to Korb "Who are ye?" one asked in a thick northern accent. Siglgion found the northern accent rather harsh and brutish she attempted to combat that by making her own voice as soft and welcoming as she could.

Smiling she answered, "We are here to pledge ourselves to your cause, we have brought supplies." The man's nose wrinkled up slightly. "A southern, Pah," he said spitting to the side. "Check the cart" he barked out to the nearby men. The soldiers moved forward and rather lazily looked into and under the cart before they shrugged "Clear, just supplies and a bird."  Then like that they were told to move along. As they drove into the main keep area Siglgion glanced around at all the forces, most within the walls were Northerners but there were a few pockets of darker skinned men, some dressed in clothes that looked to be an odd assortment of random animals, all had dark beards and braided hair. 

 _'These are Dothraki'_ Siglgion thought to herself. There were other men, who were just as dark as the Dothraki, they had uniform's of black and all held a spear in their hands. "Those are Unsullied, I hear they are some of the best fighters in Essos," Korb explained pointing them out. "Don't point!" Siglgion whispered harshly swatting Korb's hand down. Korb glowered at her but relented, he brought the horses to a stop nearby an exterior wall, mostly out of the way from everyone. Siglgion and Korb jumped down from the wagon and stretched.

Together they worked on feeding and watering the tired horses, Sigligon making sure to give them each good scratches behind the ears. Korb climbed back up unto the front seat then reached into the wagon to pull out Tikoros. Tikoros flapped around on Korb's wrist, he was excited to be free of his cage. Korb held Tikoros up and tied a long leather least to Tikoros feet, he did this so Tikoros did not fly away to far when they were in a new place. Korb then tied off the least to his waist. Instantly Tikoros launched himself into the air and flew up before he slowed down as the leash began to tighten. 

Tikoros was content to fly in small circles around them it was better than being in a cage. Sigligon scanned the area looking for a place to drop off their food supplies. She saw a small food line across the yard where people were ladling out some stew and pieces of bread. She was about to step forward to go check when a pleasant voice called out in a thick but familiar accent. "Beautiful bird you got." Siglgion turned to see an older man with a short gray beard standing on the steps admiring Tikoros. He wore dark clothing and had a black cape fringed with fur, his arms were crossed behind his back, he did not wear a sword only a small dagger tucked into his belt.

Sigligon smiled to him "Tikoros is his name, my brother trained his mother, and now he trains Tikoros." The man grinned and watched Tikoros admiringly. "You a Falconer then?" the man asked Korb. Korb shook his head "Not really, more of a jack of all trades type." The man descended down the steps "I always liked to watch birds, especially when at sea, birds usually lead you to land." Korb nodded "Is that so?" he asked as he began to whistle to bring Tikoros in. Tikoros descended quickly and landed onto Korb's wrist, awaiting eagerly for his treat. 

Korb held Tikoros aloft so that the man could study him closer. He did not touch or try to pet, only admired. "You are from King's Landing aren't you?" Korb asked "What gave it away?" the man asked chuckling to himself. "The accent, fleabottom," Korb answered. The man nodded "That I am, a good ear you got there lad, Ser Davos of House Seaworth." the man said to Korb. "Ser Davos, you are a Knight?" Korb exclaimed surprised. Siglgion hid her face in her hand, sometimes Korb could be so rude without realizing it.

But this Ser Davos did not take offense, instead, he laughed it off. "No, not really, I joke actually to most who are willing to hear it that I am a man with no combat ability has survived some of the most bloody battles in history." Korb was instantly interested, Korb loved listening and talking of battles, he had read every book on conquests from Aegon the first to the battles with Robert Baratheon, who although he did not necessarily like he still found it interesting to learn from them. 

Excitedly Korb asked, "Which battles did you survive then?" Ser Davos tilted his head as he thought for a few seconds "Well, Battle of the Blackwater was one, there was a fight beyond the wall against the Wildlings I partook in, The Battle of the Bastards that took place in these very walls." He said lifting his hand up and gesturing around. As he did this Siglgion noticed that there was something off about his left hand, it seemed disfigured under his glove. 

"I heard that there was a giant in the battle." Korb commented and Davos nodded "There was but sadly he fell, although I heard there were a few small families of them with the woman and children of the Wildlings who are headed south." Korb frowned "Oh, I had really wanted to see one...that and a direwolf I heard the King in the North had one." Davos chuckled "Ah yes, Jons direwolf Ghost, he can be a terrifying beast when needed, but I have personally seen Jon pet and play with the wolf much like any other would with a hound."

Siglgion titled her head, Ser Davos did not refer to Jon by his title, which meant there was some familiarity there. "I take it you know the King in the North?" Siglgion asked him. Davos turned to her continuing to smile pleasantly. He nodded "I do my..." Davos then paused as he realized he did not know either of their names. Siglgion bowed her head "Lady Sigligon of House Dilis Ser Davos." She curtsied Davos bowed over slightly in reply.

Ser Davos straightened himself "Pleased to meet you my Lady, apologies for not recognizing you or your name." Sigligon continued to smile "It is okay, I and my brother Korb there come from a very small and inconsequential house." Ser Davos chuckled "Not as small as mine, House Seaworth is very recent, I was raised to a Lord by Lord Stannis Baratheon many years ago, thanks to my efforts during the war."

As he said this Ser Davos stroked a small pouch that was around his neck. Sigligon did not investigate instead she changed the subject. "Apologies but we have a few supplies to hand off for the North's efforts, we would like to go and pledge our allegiance to...both Graces?" she asked unsure of how to say both properly. Although Jon was not her King, he was a King and she was in the North. Davos chuckled once more "Ah, yes it is a bit tricky with the proper titles of everything but we just make sure to refer to both of them as 'your grace' thought Jon isn't always too fond of the titles."

This was beginning to interest Siglgion, he kept saying Jon instead of 'his Grace' or 'his Lord' "Apologies again Ser Davos" she piped up. Ser Davos nodded assuring her she was welcome to speak. "But I cannot help but notice you refer to his Grace as Jon, are you perhaps on good grounds with him?" Ser Davos laughed full heartedly, his eyes even twinkled in enjoyment. "I suppose I should be I am his Hand after all." 

Sigligon gasped, this was the Hand to the King! She immediately bowed "Apologies Ser!" she exclaimed. Ser Davos stepped forward and touched her elbow gently to bring her up from her bow. "No need for all that, this isn't King's Lading, this is the North they aren't much for all that frivolity of Southern Lords." Sigligon blushed "Oh, I well thank-you Ser Davos."

Ser Davos cleared his throat and stepped away. "As for supplies, you can drop them off over there," he said pointing to a small entrance attached to Winterfell. Siglgion nodded in thanks. "After your done, you can meet me inside the keep, the Graces are currently eating and holding some manner of a court right now, that would be the perfect time to meet them." Siglgion curtsied quickly to Ser Davos who gave both her and Korb a nod before taking his leave. 

Korb put Tikoros on his shoulder and stepped over to her. "Well, he was an interesting man." Sigligon nodded "He was, but he was very kind...he reminded me a little of my father" she noted. Korb nodded his head in agreement. "It's also crazy to think that a man that once was loyal to Stannis Baratheon is now the hand of the King to Jon Snow who is in a way a Stark," Korb remarked. Siglgion's mind reeled she did not understand how so many people kept track of who's loyalties were to who, all that mattered to her was her families loyalty to the Targaryens.

"Let us deliver the food supplies" Sigligon asserted as she turned to the wagon. Korb followed her and grabbed the horses reigns, he walked them across the yard to the entrance that Davos had pointed out. Attached to the main keep was a few separate wings, much like any castle in Westeros, this wing Sigligon deduced was the one with the kitchens and servant's quarters. Once stopped her and Korb began to unload their supplies, after a little while a kitchen helper came out and collected what they unloaded and took them inside to be sorted.

It was quick work and once done Siglgion felt sad that all that working during spring and summer to make all those supplies were now basically done. They received a few thank-yous but other than that they were ushered away for more supplies to be dropped off. They led the horses back to the original place they had stopped. Korb took the time to put Tikoros back into his cage for now. Siglgion took this time to brush off her clothes and to brag the things that they needed to make this next task work for them.

She climbed up into the wagon, there was so much space now that most of the food supplies were gone. The only thing that remained was two chests, one hers the others Korb's of clothing. Two small armor racks were positioned on either side of the wagon. One had her leathered armor while Korb's rack was empty for he was wearing his now. The rest of the items in the wagon were medicine supplies, herbs, books, papers, tools and all manner of things that Sigligon did not have the time for. 

Siglgion knelt down and lifted the wagon floorboard. The wagon had a false bottom, this allowed them to put more important items in a relatively safer space.  There nestled amongst a few blankets and furs was a smaller ornate wooden chest with only the slightest of char marks on it. Reaching down carefully she pulled up on one end of the chest. It lifted away nicely and she slowly slid it out to the side of her. Once the chest was freed from its previous resting place she slid the board back into place in the floor.

She stood and turned to Korb who waited expectantly his arms folded behind him. He had slicked back his har so that his bangs were no longer in his face. She smiled at him, "It's almost time" she stated excitedly her heart beating fast. She glanced down to the chest, a small tremor was running through her hand  _'Would this work? Will Daenerys believe us?'_ she thought to herself doubt beginning to prickle at her conscious.

She waved it from her mind. They had proof, their Queen will see reason, she knew it in her heart of hearts. The voice of Melisandre flashed into her mind  _'A life within the shadows will be revealed  in the fire's light, tread carefully or the fire will take you whole.'_   she gulped  _'she doesn't mean literally does she?'_ The sound of Korb clearing his throat caught her attention. He lifted a brow studying her. "You can't keep delaying it," he stated.

Siglgion sighed "I know..." she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, relaxing. Slowly she opened her eyes and found stregth by staring into Korb's he had always been her rock. If ever she felt lost she could easily throw a rope and he would be there to catch it and pull her into a safe harbor. She bent down and lifted up the chest, taking care she walked over to Korb who then grabbed the chest from her and eased it up onto one of his shoulders while he held another hand out for her to take to get down from the wagon. She ignored this and jumped down landing gracefully on her feet like a cat. 

She grinned from ear to ear as he rolled his eyes noticing this. "Show off" he glowered but he instinctively fell in step behind her. Sigligon felt giddy, now she was bursting with excitement. It was happening she was going to fulfill her destiny, her promise to her father, oh! if he could only see her now! She felt like running around and leaping into the air she was so filled with energy. Then the noise rang out, clear as a bell she recognized it. Dragons!

She spun her eyes scanning the skies. Briefly, she wondered if it was their dragons, could it be they woke up already? But no she spotted two forms in the sky swooping around Winterfell in energetic play. The darker one was the larger, it's scales black with red while the other was a green with bronze scales and light yellow and orange wings. Sigligon was happy to see them, she instantly began to inspect them, they were young perhaps five or so, past the age of adolescent but not yet full adults.

Both were also males, which she expected, the chances of hatching a female were low. But to Siglgion's delight, she found both dragons healthy and in good condition but she did note their scales were slightly dull in color and were looking a bit thin. The dragons needed to eat higher concentration of fatty and oil-based foods, fish would be best but Sigligon wondered where on earth they would get fish in the North.

After watching Daenerys dragons for a few seconds she scanned to see for the third, oddly it was not in the skies with its brothers. It made Siglgion worry, perhaps the rumors were true? Did something happen to her third dragon? Siglgion frowned it worried her but she had to push it from mind instead she walked faster towards the entrance of Winterfell keep.

_Jon Snow_

Jon sat at the head table in the dining hall. Behind him the fire burned hot and tall, extra wood was placed for Daenerys who preferred warmer temperatures and being a gracious host he had requested more be put for her. Jon glanced over at Daenerys, she was breathtaking. Her long silver hair her pale clear skin that was so soft and supple to the touch, her high cheekbones and delicate nose she was nearly perfect in his mind.

Although he remembered the first time they met, at Dragonstone, he remembered the dreary and salt-filled air, how it stung his eyes and nose. He remembered seeing her on her massive stone throne sat so high above him while her handmaiden Missandei read off all those countless titles. The way her violet eyes studied him apprehensively. Jon leaned forward and grabbed his mug of ale, tipping it back he drank a few sips before setting it back on the table.

He studied her once more, he could tell she was still getting used to the North, there were moments when she didn't think anyone was looking at her where she would let her guard down and look dejectedly at the table or off to the wall. He knew it was awkward to be in her position, here she was trying to be the future Queen of the seven kingdoms, and now she was helping the one kingdom of hers that was rebelling against her. 

By all accounts, this alliance shouldn't work or even last, yet Jon had a small feeling that it will. Once the North sees that she was willing to fight for them, to die for them the Northern lords and ladies, as well as the common people, should accept her and be thankful for her. He had done it, although his people did not know he had knelt to her, she was right in a way, the people will kneel if their King does, and all he ever wanted was for people to be safe, with her and her armies and dragons she could do that.

What was he anyway? A bastard son of the last great Warden of the North, they clung to him because he was all they had left to remember the great Lord Eddard Stark by. Although there was Sansa, Arya, and Bran, Jon was their chosen, he was a male and he was able-bodied and strong, he had defeated Ramsey Bolten, although, in reality, it was Sansa and her Knights of the Vale the North did not seem to remember that part.

Absently Jon let his hand fall down to stroke Ghost's ear and head. Ghost lay panting at his feet waiting for Jon to toss him another bone or scrap from his plate. Jon smirked down at the direwolf, he was his one true friend and one of the last things his father had given to him. Jon picked a small scrap of boar fat and tossed it down to Ghost who snapped it up greedily. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daenerys jump in her chair then relax and smile at Ghost.

Jon gave the smallest smirk as he remembered the first time Daenerys met Ghost. It had been when she first arrived in Winterfell. After meeting with Sansa and Bran and all the other Lords and Ladies who could attend, a meeting that went about as smooth as a man trying to bed a Septa. They had retired to the Godswood where Jon was able to reunite with Arya. Who also was able to mee Daenerys, true to Arya's nature she forewent all the proper pleasantries and began to ask about the dragons.

Jon had been about to interrupt Arya when he suddenly found himself knocked down on his back and a large animal licking his face like crazy. Daenerys had cried out then, but Sansa and Arya assured her that he was going to be okay and this was how Ghost was. When Ghost had finally relented in his affections Jon grunted and stood to wipe off the snow. Daenerys stared at Ghost and how massive he was. Jon later found out that Ghost was the largest dog that Daenerys had ever seen, as most dogs in Essos were tiny thin things scarcely taller than one's knee. 

Jon had grabbed a hold of Ghost by his shoulders and walked him closer to Danerys. Jorah Mormont Daenerys guard at the time began to be unnerved but Jon assured them Ghost would not harm them. Instead, he instructed Daenerys to hold out a hand and let Ghost sniff her. Surprisingly she did as Jon bid her and within a few moments, Daenerys was able to run and rub her hands through Ghost's thick fur.

The way her eyes lighted up being able to pet such a beautiful and powerful animal, the true symbol of the North Jon knew then that all things would work out eventually. Jon came back from his memories when he noticed motion in the back of the room. Most attendants for lunch had left, only a handful remained. Sansa, Arya, and Bran had all left not to long ago and the rest of the crowd was beginning to fade but there were enough people to cause a stir when two strangers were led through the door.

The taller of the two was a man, in his early twenties who had striking ice blue eyes and brown/blonde hair combed back. He was imposing and carried himself like a warrior, on his shoulder rested a small chest and at his waist hung a sword. His armor was well-made leather with some plates of steel. Both he and the woman beside him wore matching red cloaks. The woman was cause for some of the stir, she was shorter than her male counterpart but had some height to her perhaps she was as tall as Sansa, hard to tell from so far away.

The woman's hair was a bright red that glowed almost orange in the light. Her locks fell in long waves around her neck and framed her face. Her eyes were also blue but their palette was more like that of the sea's on a bright sunny day. She had clear pale skin and well-defined cheekbones, her chin was sharp and angled and complimented her face nicely. Jon could consider her beautiful as well but she had a strange aura about her, she seemed oblivious to her looks and the effect she had on the room. 

Most women when they knew they were beautiful would hold themselves high and use their looks to gain control of a room. This woman did no such thing, she walked calmly next to her partner, she held her head high but did not smile and lift her brows or exaggerate her hips as she moved.  When both were brought up to the small square of space between the high table and the other tables that sat down on the floor she met his eyes and smiled in a pleasant manner.

When her eyes slid over to Daenerys Jon swore she could see the excitement and love pour out of her eyes. Jon heard a familiar throat clearing sound and glanced over to see his Hand Ser Davos step forward. "My Grace I present to you Lord Korb and Lady Sigligon of House Dilis." Davos could be seen concentrating as he said her name 'Sigligon' Jon frowned slightly. He had never heard of that House before and that name was very obviously foreign,  _'this is going to be an interesting meeting'_ Jon thought to himself as the woman curtsied and the man bowed, as they did so Jon noted the three-headed Targaryen pin at their necks,  _'Very interesting indeed.'_

 

 


	22. Chapter 22 -The Meeting-

_Siglgion Dilis_

They had been led through the surprisingly warm halls of Winterfell rather quickly. All about them was a hustle of servants and guards. Servants who carried empty trays and platters from the main hall and who were returning with plates now fully stocked. The halls were lit only by the pale gray light that shone through the windows and the occasional torch or candelabrum. The light gleamed off of the dozens of animal pelts and trophies that littered the walls, stags, boars, mountain cats all frozen in place like statues.

There were tapestries of direwolves framed by the unique bright red leaves of the Godswood tree, others showed lonesome and somber scenes of Northern mountains and woods. Quickly they were ushered through a pair of tall wooden doors that were carved with the heads of direwolves. The servant that had shown them their way handed them off to a nearby Northern solider who nodded to them and bid them walk foreword and approach the high table on the other side of the room. 

Sigligon squinted and saw two figures eating alone framed by the fireplace. She could see the form of a man and women and knew then it was the King and Queen. Slowly they made their way towards the high table, taking care she put her hood down to reveal herself entirely. The room was darkened with the smoke from the fires, and most of the dark oaken tables were empty but there was still perhaps twenty or so people eating yet. All around the room guards stood at the ready, some of them Stark while others were Unsullied. 

A murmur was beginning to sift through the remaining crowd. Siglgion glanced around her confused, was Southerner's really that disliked here? As the walked up to the pathway between the tables Siglgion noticed a giant white animal lay next to the King's feet. She glanced to Korb who looked very excited but was managing to keep it hidden, she knew that this creature was a Direwolf, and how Korb had longed to see one. Siglgion also noted that Ser Davos stood to their right, he gave them a curt nod and stood with his arms crossed behind him waiting. 

When they were now in front of the Royal duo Siglgion curtsied as she did Korb bowed stiffly and let the chest on his shoulder slide off so that he could then set it on the stone floor between them. Siglgion glanced up to King Jon. His hair was black as pitch and tied back away from his face. He had a thick black beard and dark gray eyes. Light scars could be seen on his face, a more prominent one across his right eye. His face was pale like most in the North but there was a stony pensiveness to it that gave him the appearance of a statue. 

The Direwolf at his feet panted although it was still relaxed next to its master it had both ears forward signaling that it was paying attention to the both of them. Siglgion moved her eyes away from Jon and finally landing on her Queen. Daenerys Targaryen, she was beautiful, her pale skin looked as if she was bathed by moonlight, her silver hair that curled down softly in long waves and of course her mesmerizing violet eyes, they twinkled like amethysts. The blood of Old Valyria flowed strongly in her, she was the last of the Targaryen's, the last of the dragons blood. 

Sigligon shivered she must feel so alone at times, in a way they were alike, both women where the last of their houses only she had Korb whereas Danereys had no one, at least not anymore. Sigligon saw Ser Davos step forward and clear his throat. He addressed Jon "My Grace I present to you Lord Korb and Lady Sigligon of House Dilis." Ser Davos said extending a handout and motioning to the two of them. Sigligon's heart skipped a beat, oh no this was wrong! She was a fool for not introducing them properly. 

Jon studied them peculiarly his eyes set firmly to their necks. Siglgion blushed slightly and glanced down, their Targaryen pins could just be seen poking through the fabric of their cloaks. Daenerys tilted her head and lifted a brow at the mention of their name. Jon spoke his voice low but gentle but still held a thick Northern accent to it. "Welcome to Winterfell, My Lord, and Lady." Quick and pleasant with no flourishes, that is how Jon spoke to them. Sigligon nodded her head in thanks she spoke up first "Apologies your Grace, there had been some minor miscommunication with Ser Davos." 

Siglgion glanced apologetically to Ser Davos. "The fault is all mine." She continued looking back to Jon "Korb is not my father's trueborn son, he is a ward that my father took in and raised" she explained glancing to Korb. "Although we are not brother and sister by blood we were raised together by the same father and I claim him as my brother for blood or no blood that is who he is to me." Jon nodded understanding.

"Lord or no Lord Korb I welcome you to Winterfell all the same." Korb nodded to Jon in reverence. "We have come here your Grace to aid in any way we can," Siglgion spoke up addressing Jon. Jon glanced over to her "We are a small house so we cannot provide any men, but we have provided all the food and supplies we can spare, as well as our skills." Jon nodded as she spoke and raised a brow when she mentioned skills. 

"Which skills would those be?" he asked her. "My brother and I are both trained well with bow, I have trained with staff while he has trained with a sword. I know how to heal most common wounds and bring with my supplies to do so." Jon seemed satisfied with this answer "Those are all skills we will need for the battle to come." Sigligon smiled softly "Thank-you your Grace" 

"Apologies for the interruption" a voice spoke out from the side of the room. Siglgion snapped her head to the origin of the voice and saw a short man, much shorter than she had seen anyone. He looked as if he had an adults head and torso on a child's legs. His limbs were shortened and his legs were bow legged. He came forward walking with confidence as he did so, his dark green eyes met hers they held a deep intelligence to them as they eyed her speculatively.

The short man had a large scar across his face going over his nose his brows were furrowed and highlighted this scar even more. On the man's dark robes was a small pendant in the shape of a hand but with the Targaryen three-headed dragon. "This is my hand, Lord Tyrion Lannister," Daenerys said cooly gesturing to him.  _'Lannister...so he is brother to Queen Cersei and Jaime Lannister the Kingslayer'_ she thought to herself.

Briefly, she wondered how he a Lannister was able to convince Daenerys to allow him to be her Hand, to be able to build a rapport with her, to have her trust him. Tyrion studied her and Korb briefly before continuing to speak. "I do wish to extend a courteous thank-you for the supplies that your house has provided to our ever-hungry armies...however the fact remains that your house is not one I recognize nor does anyone here recognize."

Tyrion was good at speaking, he was eloquent and pronounced words with no stutter or pause, he was a man of intelligence this she could tell. "Of course my Lord, I can explain however I must apologize beforehand for I know what I am about to say and claim will be wildly unbelievable but I do have evidence to back what I claim."  Tyrion turned his head slightly to Daenerys who nodded as she spoke her voice soft "Go on." 

Sigligon gave a small curtsy then lifted her head. "My family has always been loyal and true servants to House Targaryen since the time of Jaehaerys I." Daenerys perked up at the mention of her ancestor. Sigligon undid her cloak some to reveal her Targaryen pin and the Targaryen dragon that was stitched into the front of her clothing. A dragon that had been hidden all this time by her cloak. There was some murmuring through the crowd. 

Sigligon ignored them for now and continued. "My founding ancestor was a man of no name, a lowborn who through great work and study had proven to Jaehaerys I that he was trustworthy and an honorable man, one who was esteemed for his knowledge and works, because of this your ancestor raised mine into a position of nobility provided of course that his descendants would always serve loyally to House Targaryen."

Sigligon took a moment to collect her thoughts. "No one but the reigning Targaryen monarchs knew of our family and our duties, we were the shadows, the invisible servents who guarded the most important items to the Targaryens" Tyrion squinted his eyes as she spoke it was obvious he was finding all of this dubious. "So, what you are telling us is that you claim to come from a long line of secret attendants to the Targaryen family but all of the Targayens who could have possibly known about you and vouch for you are dead?"  he asked her questioningly.

Siglgion felt her hears burn. When he put it like that it did sound very outlandish. She glanced down at her feet for a second but lifted her gaze and looked directly into Daenerys eyes. "I do, your Grace, I told you that my tale would be hard to believe but I assure you it is the truth, what could I possibly gain from lying?" Daenerys mulled her words over taking the time to process them. "I have physical proof here your Grace," Siglgion said gesturing to the chest.

Daenerys gave the slightest tip of her head giving Sigligon leave to move. Sigligon knelt down and began to undo the chest latches. The hall had fallen silent now not even a servant seemed to be moving but Sigligon had no time to look around. She was beginning to feel very hot, her heart and mind were racing and she felt a tremor running throughout her whole body. Carefully cracking the lid only the tiniest of margins she pulled out a large leather portfolio.

Sigligon rose and carefully handed over the portfolio to Tyrion. Tyrion took it and turned and handed it to Daenerys who placed it on the table before her. She opened it slowly. "The first letter you will find on top is an original, please be careful it is very old, that is a certification of our house being recognized as one of Nobility." Daenerys read it carefully, squinting at the faded ink. Siglgion watched her meticulously scan the signature and seal at the bottom of the page.

Lord Tyrion who at this time did not bother going around the table instead chose to cross underneath the table and come out from the other side so that he was next to Daenerys. He studied the letter just as fervently as she did. Tyrion lifted his head up from reading and spoke: "This is no forgery and that is King Jaehaerys I signet...you speak truthfully to your nobility." Sigligon smiled inwardly, one thing explained finally.

Daenerys looked up from the paper. "What did your ancestor do to warrant being raised to Nobility, you said it was through his studies?" she asked questioningly. Sigligon nodded "He and nearly every one of my ancestors including me and my father has always been strong academics." Daenerys tilted her head slightly "What did you study that made you so important?" Sigligon paused for a moment wondering how the best course of action to take.

Deciding on a more gentle route she began "Firstly, we translated and copied down books from Old Valyria to keep their knowledge alive for the Targaryens." Daenerys raised a brow at this "So you speak High Valyrian then?" Sigligon nodded "Gaomi, ñuha dāria" _we do, my Queen_ she responded Valyrian bouncing off her tongue naturally. "Ñuha kepa sesīr teptan nyke iā Valyrīha brōzi" she continued  _'My father even gave me a Valyrian name.'_

Daenerys spoke back fluently "Aōha Valyrīha iksis olvie sȳz"  _'Your Valyrian is very good.'_ Siglgion nodded her head "Thank-you your Grace" she thanked switching back into common. Sigligon stood back up. "Besides the books, we also spent time learning all we could from them, figuring out how the Valyrians built and made things, because of this we served not only as translators and bookkeepers but also as alchemists, stonemasons, architects and even at times chef's if you believe it or not."

"Chefs?" Daenerys questioned Siglgion blushed but nodded "Obviously some family members had their own talents, mine happens to lean more towards books, stitching, alchemy, and medicine although I can make some fine stews." she paused briefly "My father Jovern was great at languages and invention, he taught us all that he could before he passed." Daenerys eyes saddened at that information.

"I am sorry to hear that, it is hard to lose one's father, I hope he passed well." Sigligon lowered her head "I wouldn't know your Grace, he was betrayed by a friends son several years after the war, he was taking to the dungeons and executed as a traitor." A lump and came to Sigligon's throat and she fought back her tears. Tyrion was frowning as well as seeming to share in her sadness. "That is even more saddening, I apologize for bringing up such memories," Daenerys said her voice soft, calm and comforting.

"It was long ago your Grace, we have grown from it," Sigligon said pushing it to the back of her mind. "There is one last talent that my family did, and this one was the most important of them all." Siglgion began. She could sense Korb tensing up beside her. Daenerys waited apprehensively.

Siglgion waited only for a few seconds before a calmness took over her, it was time it had to be said, now or never. "On the island of Dragonstone and eventually within the Dragonpits, my family served as the head caretakers and guardians to the Targaryen Dragons." There it was said. The words seemed to echo within the silent halls. Not a person moved, all were frozen watching and waiting for Daenerys reaction.

Tyrion seemed to be bracing himself for something, anger perhaps? Siglgion thought to herself. Daenerys remained still, an unnerving stillness that seemed to stretch on for more than a minute. Jon who had been silent this entire time watched Daenerys from the corner of his eye. Finally, Daenerys moved, it was a small facial twitch as she broke out into a wide smile. "You must be joking, surely you can't expect me to believe that."

Sigligon felt her heart sink.  _'Oh no, she does not believe me, great just my luck'_ But she would not be discouraged so easily. "It is the truth, the Targaryen's were busy ruling Seven Kingdoms from the Iron throne, while they were there someone had to watch the Dragons making sure they were fed and cared for, the Targaryens had few people who they trusted, so they relied on us." Daenerys frowned and leaned back in her chair, it was obvious she was becoming dissatisfied with this conversation.

Siglgion pointed to the portfolio in front of her "On the next papers you will see, accounts for meat purchases and shipments, notes from my ancestors to yours with extensive reports on Dragons their movements, their diets, if they laid eggs or not...all of it there and signed." Daenerys began to flip through the papers reading each report and note more frantically than the previous. Tyrion spoke up "It would seem to me your Grace, that with this amount of evidence it is very circumstantial that there is truth to her words."

Daenerys paused and glanced to Tyrion the back to Siglgion. Patiently Sigligon waited for Daenerys reply, just like everyone else. "Let's say that your claims are true, what is it that you want, why are you here today?" Sigligon squared herself "Ever since I could remember, even when I was the smallest child my father spoke to me of our duty." Sigligon closed her eyes picturing him as she spoke. "He told me how one day the Targaryen's would return to their full glory and we would be by their side just as we had always been, we would be there to help them remember their roots and use the knowledge of their ancient ancestry to make the world a better place."

Siglgion opened her eyes "For twenty and five years I have waited in exile for this day, studying and training to do what my family has done for your family for generations." Daenerys eyes remained locked on hers as she spoke. "I know that what I am saying is inconceivable and that you do not trust me at all, to you I am a stranger but I beg you to allow me to take the place my family has always been, let me serve you and prove to you..." Siglgion lowered herself to her knees in front of Daenerys her head bowed she begged out "please."

There was a long silence now. The sound of creaking wood scraping across the floor signaled Daenerys standing. Siglgion glanced up to her. Daenerys had conflicting emotions swimming in her eyes. It was hard to tell what she was thinking at that moment. "You very obviously are loyal to me, and perhaps what you say is true." She began, she then paused looking down for a second before raising her head up to look above and past her "But the fact remains that I have not heard of you, or trust you...what you ask...to take your place as what a keeper to my dragons?" Daenerys shook her head "My dragons are my children, they are not hounds or horses one can keep, they are intelligent and magical, one could never hope to take care of one just because one has read about them."

Sigligon felt her heart sinking with each word, Daenerys was right though, if Sigligon had switched her perspective to Daenerys papers or no, she would not believe or accept herself either. Perhaps they should have gone the route Korb had come up with. Flying in on the dragons unannounced, then at least they would have physical evidence to their claims, who could argue against four dragons? Siglgion wracked her brain for an idea, for any way to convince her.

Suddenly once came to her. "Your Grace!" she exclaimed, the sudden yelling making Daenerys flinch "You are right, Dragons are not like hounds or horses and they are highly intelligent, so intelligent in fact they are known to be able to judge a person's heart, I propose a test." Daenerys blinked at her slowly, comprehension sinking in muddily.

"Allow me before your dragons, you can strip me of everything if need be and have men at the ready if you fear I shall do something untoward them if they allow me to approach and touch them that should prove my claims yes?" Daenerys opened and closed her mouth a few times, she was bewildered at this suggestion. "If I should fail I give you permission to execute me or banish me, however, if I should succeed please allow me to take my proper place as your Dragon caretaker."

Daenerys glanced to Tyrion who while Sigligon spoke had a small tug of a smile to his lips, he was amused by her antics it seemed. Tyrion turned to Daenerys and shrugged "I see no potential harm in her 'test' if she fails she will be gone, and if she succeeds we will have retained a new ally that appears to bring more knowledge to us" he stated. Daenerys glanced at Jon. Jon shrugged as well "It is not my decision" he chimed. Daenerys turned back to Sigligon she narrowed her eyes clearly distrusting to the situation, "Very well." she said coldly "A test it shall be, and if you should fail...I will have you burned by my dragons for choosing to lie to my face."

With that Daenerys turned and began to walk towards the side door but paused and turned back to Sigligon who still kneeled on the ground. "You have had a long journey, it would be rude of me to not let you at least rest before you test yourself, you have 2 hours,"  she stated her voice monotone as she turned back and disappeared out the door her guards in tow. Tyrion gave Sigligon a nod "You are dismissed, for now, I shall collect you when the Queen is ready." he said to her.

Slowly Siglgion stood up Jon now stood Ghost standing beside him. "For what it is worth I thank-you for the supplies and I wish you good fortune on your test, you are welcome to rest in the sitting room if you'd like." Then Jon turned and left headed out the door on the other side of the hall. With that, they were dismissed. Awkwardly Sigligon stood there, her heart pounding from the adrenaline of the situation.

She turned to Korb who was standing grim-faced and arms crossed. "So that's how that went I guess," he said dryly. Siglgion frowned "That could have been better." Korb snorted "Well, I suppose let's prepare for this test, otherwise, it would be a lot of time and effort to go up in a puff of smoke if you fail." He commented leaning down and picking up the chest. Sigligon glared at him. He stood confused for a second "What?" 

"Good of you to make jokes about my potential burning." Korb sighed then stepped forward, quietly he spoke to her "You know I would never let that happen." Sigligon gave a small smile "What, are you going to fight a dragon?" Korb shrugged "If that is what it takes, then yes." He said grinning lopsidedly. Sigligon shook her head and rolled her eyes "I would love to see that, now come on I have to prepare." She led him away carrying the chest and a servant showed them to their sitting room. 

Once inside the sitting room, Siglgio threw herself into the chair while Korb being the gentleman eased himself down into it. The room was small and housed a small fireplace with it. The walls had Direwolf's running in packs etched into the stone walls while a large bear rug covered the floor. When the servant left Korb looked to her and said: "I told you we should have done it my way." Sigligon once again rolled her eyes "No, trust me, I have this figured out." 

But in reality Sigligon did not have this, and inside her mind she was reeling and doing all she had to keep together, but when she closed her eyes and pictured the two dragons she had seen for only mere moments she knew that somehow, this could be done, and she was going to be okay. It was just a small sidestep but her plan would be set back on track in no time. She would take her rightful place it was not a question of how it was a question of when. 

 

 

 


	23. Chapter 23 -The Test-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer Chapters will be beginning to happen sorry!

_Daenerys Targaryen_

Daenerys frowned as she stared into the fire. Her hands clasped in front of her she ruminated over the events that had transpired in the main hall. The women, Sigligon, confused Daenerys her claims seemed so far fetched, a secret family with secret motives. How was she to know if this was all a ruse put on by Queen Cersei? The fire crackled and sputtered as the door to her chamber swung open. It was Tyrion followed Ser Jorah and then finally Varys. She looked directly at her master of whispers "You are the spider and the master of all lies, tell me does what she say have merit." she asked.

Varys stepped forward his hands in front of him he bowed, the light glistening off of his bald head. "Your Grace, when I served your father I had heard rumors but none that I was able to truly confirm." Daenerys lifted her brow "Rumors of what" she asked him. Varys continued his voice soft and infectious. "It was said he had a project being built in secret, in a small villa on the Northeast side of the city...I made attempts to get one of my little birds into this villa but was unsuccessful, I resorted to spying on it but none could bring me back any worthwhile news, the only thing we could confirm was that the King visited it on any occasion and that was it."

Troubled Daenerys frowned "I thought you knew everything that went on in King's Landing" she accused, her patience wearing thin. "I eventually was able to your Grace, but at the time this villa was one of the few places I had no hold of, a spider cannot cast his web in the presence of the King, he must do so in the shadows." Daenerys turned and stared back into the fire, there was no use it seemed. "I did send someone after the sacking of King's Landing, one of my older birds flew to the Villa but when he got there is was engulfed in flames so hot that nothing could be extracted or saved."

Daenerys nodded. "Very well, what about you Tyrion, what do you think of her...story, her documents?" she asked her Hand. Tyrion stepped forward next to Varys clearing his throat he spoke "I have studied many of the Targaryen King's and Queen's signets in my days as Hand of the King and Master of Coin, I can confirm that those documents are in fact real, not falsified in one bit, it is impossible to age ink and paper so perfectly though many have tried." he said his arms behind his back as he addressed her.  "So you _do_ believe her?" Daenerys asked, "I thought you didn't believe in most things?" she commented turning to face them both.

Tyrion shook his head "That is not what I am saying, I am saying her documents are true, whether or not we can believe that she is who she says she is is entirely a different matter." Daenerys pursed her lips "She did seem for certain about everything, it makes one wonder why anyone would go to so much trouble to make something like this up." Tyrion nodded "Exactly as I thought, why would anyone take the time to come up with such stories if there is not some truth to it?" Daenerys studied Tyrion for a few seconds. 

She walked over to a nearby chair, one that had direwolves on its handles. "If it is true what then? I told her she could take her place as her ancestors did, what does that even mean?" Tyrion walked over and sat across from her "It means she wants to serve you, loyally and faithfully."  His eyes were soft she gazed into them for a few moments. "That and she will want to be near my dragons...they are my children I will not stand for anyone to harm them...I cannot lose another...not like Viserion." Daenerys heart ached as she thought of how her precious child died, screaming as it fell into a frozen lake, the way it disappeared under the dark waters to never be seen again.

But that wasn't true, was it? Viserion was now cursed, forced to roam the skies as an undead a creature with no will. She shivered imagining her beautiful dragon now reduced to a monster. Tyrion waited for a few moments before saying softly "You are their mother, you will always love them and want to protect them, no one can take that away from you, but they are full-grown dragons, I pity the person who attempts to even try to hurt one." Daenerys stared up at him tears reflecting in the corner of her eyes. "The Night King killed one." 

Tyrion frowned "This Sigligon is not the Night King, she is flesh and blood just like you and me, however," Tyrion paused for a beat "She does speak some truth, if the dragons find her at fault they will let us know, let us see the test results first before we ask what we shall do." Daenerys sniffled but nodded slowly. Tyrion for a moment realized that Daenerys was only a young girl of Ten and Eight. At this moment she was fragile and confused, she needed reassurance to know what to do. "If she passes, you will have to honor the deal, you made that deal in front of Northerners, they are very particular on honoring pledges, to go back from that would be seen as greatly troubling and they would trust you even less."

Daenerys nodded understanding. "That being said, you can always limit Sigligon's interactions at first, at least until she can prove herself as an asset and someone trustworthy, keep an eye on her so to speak." Daenerys nodded confidence filling her eyes, gone was the scared child now to be replaced by the mother of dragons. "You are right." Daenerys spoke her eyes narrowing to his "You have always claimed to be a good judge of character, you will be the one to keep an eye on her if at any moment you feel she is untrustworthy tell me." Tyrion nodded obeying his Queen "Of course your Grace."

He stood and bowed "I shall go then at once, I shall see you in less than two hours I assume?" Daenerys nodded and turned her attention back to the fire. "Yes, you will," she stated her voice emoting that the conversation was now over.

_Tyrion Lannister_

Tyrion made his way through the grim gray halls of Winterfell, he found their corridors to be narrow and dark, reminding him more of a crypt than a home. The halls of the Red Keep and even his ancestral home Casterly Rock had both been wide, warm and welcoming. As he daydreamed about the warmth of the south and the good days when he and the rest of Westeros were not at war he found himself suddenly at his destination.

He stood outside the sitting room peering in at the two strange inhabitants. The Lady Sigligon Dilis was a beauty, he could not deny that but there was an air of strangeness to her, she did not hold herself like a proper Lady, she seemed wild and free-spirited much like young Arya Stark yet Sigligon also had a presence of duty to her, she acted the Lady when she needed to, it just seemed that her facade could only go for so long.

Even now she was half curled up in her chair soaking in the warmth of the nearby flame. She was oblivious to the world around her as she stared into the fire. It's light dancing in her eyes and lighting up her face. The young man Korb, also relaxed languidly in his chair, at least until he turned and noticed Tyrion, then he sat up tall and rigid like a tree. His hooked nose reminded Tyrion of a falcon's while his icy blue eyes studied him like a hawk. 

Tyrion cleared his throat "Pardon for the intrusion, but the Queen has asked I sit and wait with you." Korb nodded curtly and motioned with his head towards a chair next to the wall across from them. Tyrion stepped towards it and pulled it across the floor. The chair screeched against the stone floor, the high screech echoing in their small room. Sigligon visibly jumped, she stood and in a graceful bound she was on the other side of the chair.

"Please Sir, allow me" She started lifting the chair off the floor and adjusting the chair to sit an equal distance from the other three. "Thank-you" he replied easily as he lifted himself into the chair, the Lady Sigligon turned and sat, this time remembering her manners she sat her back straight and her body perched on the very edge of her seat. Her hands folded in front of her. Tyrion studied her, she wore a pleasant and welcoming smile on her face, one that reached her eyes in all his years he had hardly met anyone who's smile went all the way to their eyes.

Pureness such as that was usually extinguished from this world quickly. Korb, on the other hand, had a blank expression, his eyes were guarded, it was obvious that he was untrusting of the situation, he also seemed to be very protective of the chest behind his foot. Tyrion gave a small half-smile "Shall I have wine brought? Surely after a long trip, you would like some." Korb made a small nod but Sigligon shook her head "no, thank-you, perhaps just a kettle of hot water?"  she asked hopefully.

Tyrion was confused by this request but nodded and turned to the door where one of the Unsullied soldiers stood guard. "Have a servent bring wine and a kettle of hot water." The Unsullied soldier tapped his spear once on the ground as a reply then turned in a military-style to go to the kitchens. Tyrion turned back to his guests. "So, a secret family with highly important duties, how does one manage to do such a thing?" Tyrion asked.

Sigligon's face crumpled into a frown. She sighed "I understand it's a hard thing to believe...but it's the truth, our work wasn't just simple bookwork, it was Dragons, the Targaryen's dragons, their greatest strength, they were what allowed Aegon Targaryen to concur Westeros." Tyrion nodded "Undoubtedly, I suppose if I had dragons I would want to make sure the people who took care of them were trustworthy and loyal...what made your family be so?" he asked her pointedly.

Sigligon was silent for a moment before she spoke. "Same as any Noble House I suppose...we were good at what we did and remained that way" she spoke carte blanch to him her eyes meeting his. She continued "my ancestor was a man of studies...fanatical studies...if any man could claim to know about dragons more than the Targaryen's than it was he." Tyrion studied her face for a few moments looking for signs of malice or lie but there wasn't any.

Seeing that Tyrion was still not understanding Sigligon began to explain differently. "Have you ever met an artist Lord Tyrion?" she asked her eyebrow raised. Tyrion nodded "Of course, I have met many, painters, poets, sculptors, and my fair share of bards." Siglgion nodded "Good, now I want you to think back to them." Tyrion squinted his eyes in confusion as he adjusted himself in his chair he was not utterly understanding the point of this thinking exercise.

Sigligon closed her eyes speaking as she did "How many artists do you think would betray their craft? Have you ever met a painter who told you his secret for how he comes up with his inspirations? Or for a musician to tell you the secret to making a great song loved by all women?" Tyrion smiled as Sigligon explained this, understanding beginning to dawn on him. "My ancestors, were not some loyal servants tasked with important duties...we were born into it, raised in it, we trained and studied for it, like a bard who learns an instrument or a painter would attend color theory classes we learned and studied dragons and other studies."

Tyrion watched as Sigligon spoke a passion coming forth from her. She was proud and was willing to sit there till she was blue in the face to defend herself. This made Tyrion smile to see someone so enthralled in their subjects like a teacher or a religious figure, only much better looking. Her argument made sense, who better to take care of dragons then those who claim to study them. "Now that I think about it, your argument does make some sense, you must pardon the Queen, she is in a land at war against her...trust will not be an easy thing to earn."

Siglgion nodded she relaxed suddenly after realizing how animated she had been the only moment before. "I do understand, but it is my dream to serve Daenerys Targaryen." Tyrion tilted his head "Why is that? You easily could have switched to King Robert's side after the war, no one would have known, you could have taught what you know of the Valyrians to him." Tyrion suggested. Siglion's eyes narrowed slightly. 

A look of disgust corrupted her face, "No" she stated her voice cold and stony. Tyrion chewed his bottom lip as he frowned "I see, it was only a question please take no offense." Korb suddenly spoke up "Apologies Lord Tyrion, but Sigligon lost her father to the Usurper, his very name still brings us pain." Tyrion nodded he understood that pain as well. "I am sorry to hear about your father, what was his name again?"

Sigligon's eyes softened "Jovern...Jovern Dilis, he was the smartest and kindest man I have ever known." the way she spoke about him, her voice filled with sadness it pulled at Tyrion's heartstrings. "That is a sad thing to hear, he sounds like a man I would have loved to converse with." Just then the wine and kettle of hot water arrived. Tyrion poured out drinks for him and Korb while Siglgion took a small cup of hot water, she reached into a small side pocket attached to her belt and pulled out a small packet, unfolding it she revealed a few pinches of a mysterious loose leaf.

She dropped said leaves into the water and stirred absently. She looked up to see his eyes watching her "Oh" she commented glancing down at her cup "Apologies, this is just tea, I prefer it to wine or ale." Tyrion smiled respectfully and sipped his wine. It was a simple red, a common type that existed in nearly every house across Westeros. "My father was great conversationist, he taught me all he knew of dragons," Sigligon interjected into the silence that had fallen on their small room.

Tyrion lifted his goblet "To Jovern" he said toasting the man he only just learned about. Sigligon and Korb both lifted their glasses to toast. Tyrion glanced down at the box once more, curiosity now burning in him like the wine in his veins. "So tell me, what is in that crate you guard?" Korb's brows raised and he moved closer to the box. "It is highly classified, only the Queen and House Dilis are allowed to know it's contents," Korb stated sternly his eyes challenging.

Tyrion swallowed his wine. "What of the Queen's hand?" Tyrion asked him in a joking manner to ease the mood. But the cold and stern look that Korb gave him told Tyrion there was no argument. For a few seconds, Tyrion was reminded of the times he would press upon his father, mincing Lord Tywin's words to find room for leeway. But Korb being a warrior type person was very much the same as Lord Tywin and any other military-minded man, no give and no relenting, they were stern-faced men with stone-like resolve.

Tyrion turned to Sigligon who was more open to talking. "Well then Lady Sigligon." he began, but Siglgion interrupted him rather improperly by waving her hand to the side "Please, just Sigligon." Tyrion paused "Very well Sigligon...tell me how reading of dragons prepares one for taking care of a dragon...I have read many books about being a great warrior, but I am yet to be knighted on my fighting prowess." Tyrion commented, he noticed a small smile tug at Korb's lips, ah! the young man had a sense of humor after all.

Sigligon sat silently for a few seconds, "You are right reading about a subject and doing said subject are entirely different matters." She murmured after a bit. Tyrion waited for a few seconds unsure of how to answer the statement. "However," Siglgion said matter of factly "As I stated I was born for this, I was trained for this since I was young, you do not know the life I have lived." Her eyes glowed with a fiery strength, it told Tyrion that there was no combating this statement, he was to only accept it.

He nodded and instead chose to sit in silence for a little while they all sat, each drinking their beverage of choice. After some time Tyrion hesitantly began to prod at their lives. Where did they live? A small valley tucked away and hidden a few miles north of King's Landing next to the sea. How did they make money? They grew crops and raised animals, creating high-quality goat cheese and milk that they sold to market, or rare flowers and plants for measters and healers all over King's Landing would use.

Slowly, their world opened up to Tyrion and he began to understand them more. Siglgion, for the most part, lived in seclusion, she did not go to King's Landing to sell, she instead stayed in their home for what seemed to be years at a time. Only rare chances would she leave, this made her quite sheltered and unsure of how to act around people other than Korb. She was used to talking and being in her own space, to be in another's home and place was entirely foreign, hence why she now sat back and at ease and not in the proper seating of a guest and a Lady, but then again he was never a stickler of rules.

She would switch from proper etiquette to what came naturally to her nearly constantly. She would flit from conversation to conversation and would sometimes go off on other tangents entirely. Korb seemed used to this and even joined her sometimes, it was obvious they had a history together with both of them having trigger words to inside jokes. It reminded Tyrion of his relationship with his brother Jaime.

The thought of Jaime made his frown he had hoped the Southern armies would make it soon, but he had not heard of ay major movements from the South. Sigligon spotted this frown. "Is something troubling you Lord Tyrion?" she asked him. Tyrion smiled and shook his head "No, I was just wondering about my brother, that is all." Sigligon nodded her eyes growing distant. "The Kingslayer," she stated her voice withdrawn.

Tyrion nodded "The one and only, I apologize I forget you are true Targaryen loyalists, by rights we should be at odds." Tyrion stated sipping the last of his wine out of his goblet. Sigligon shook her head "You serve the Queen, and so far have been kind to us, I have no quarrel with you...only your brother...at one point he had honor, but after what we heard it appears it has gone away." Tyrion lifted his brow "At one point?" Sigligon nodded "Yes, there was a time when I was very young, Ser Jaime and a few other Knights would visit our old home on the edge of the city, while the King went inside to speak to my father I would sneak outside and talk to the Knights...I loved their horses and armor, and would give them wine and honey cakes from the kitchens."

Suddenly in Tyrion's head things were clicking, what Sigligon was saying was backed up by what Varys had stated while they walked with the Queen. "Your old home? Was it a small villa near the wall on the Northwest side of King's Landing?" Sigligon paused and nodded "Yes...that was where the ha-...that was where our home was." Sigligon had caught herself then, there was something she was still hiding, he could feel it, but it didn't seem a dangerous secret just another secret that she was not yet comfortable revealing just yet.

He would give her the benefit of the doubt for now. "What did my brother Ser Jaime do while at your house?" Sigligon smiled softly, "He and Ser Conlin would spar, of course, Ser Jaime was far better, but still....and Ser Jaime even would lead me around on his horse." Tyrion smiled at this "My brother has always had a love for children, he just never let many know." Sigligon nodded she was about to add to the conversation when a voice came from the doorway.

"The Queen has bid Lady Sigligon and Korb join her outside...the test will now begin." It was Missandei, her hair was pulled back away from her face and she wore completely black robes. Her hands were clasped in front of her she was always polite and knew how to act properly no matter the situation it seemed. Sigligon and Korb rose, Korb, of course, grabbing the chest right away. Tyrion slid down from his chair and together he and Missandei led Sigligon and Korb back through the halls of Winterfell and outside.

Word of what had been said in the dining hall and spread like wildfire, everywhere you went people stared and whispered. Tyrion was used to this all his life and chose to ignore it. Missandei seemed slightly bothered but not as much as Sigligon who seemed to shrink in towards Korb. Tyrion kept an eye on both of them. Korb stood resolute and stared everyone down his eyes burned coldly and in the challenge.

Korb was very obviously sure of himself and his ability. Tyrion briefly wondered what the lad could do with the sword strapped to his side. They exited the gates of Winterfell, thankfully the wind had died down and the sun shone down brightly enough that there was even some heat being emanated from it. Tyrion took the time to soak it in. They were joined by a small squadron of Unsullied once outside the gates, they fell in rank around them enclosing them ad cutting them from any means of escape.

Tyrion ahead could see the hulking forms of the dragons standing next to each other. He could also see a small group of people, as they made their way across the winter landscape Tyrion was able to make out the figures. The tall and proud figure was Ser Jorah, while Daenerys stood next to him her gaze unwavering, off to the side stood Jon Snow and his hand Ser Davos. Tyrion glanced back to Sigligon, she was staring intently ahead at the dragons, her eyes wide with excitement.

_Sigligon Dilis_

Leaving Winterfell had been hard on Siglgion, so many people stood around staring and whispering. Throughout the halls, courtyard even upon the ramparts, which she could see beginning to fill with people who wanted to see this mysterious stranger who claimed to be able to take care of dragons. Did they all want to see her fail and watch her burn? Or were they cheering for her? Or was it because everyone was stuck in one place bored and waiting to die to an army of dead men? Sigligon surmised it was most likely the latter.

But when she saw the two hulking forms of the dragons all her fear and timidness began to disappear, she did not care what the others thought or said, her goal was now in sight. She did not care or notice when more troops joined them and did not mind the long walk through the snow and ice, it felt refreshing to be outside and she felt her excitement growing by the second. Finally, they neared the dragons, Siglgion could see why people thought them large and intimidating, they could be seen as that at the size they were, their heads the size of large horses, their wingspan was most likely 175 to 200 feet, but Sigligon knew dragons could be so much larger.

The black one was the leader. He stood protectively over the smaller green one. Sigligon could see his intelligent orange-red eyes analyzing her and Korb as they approached. His nostrils were beginning to flare as the sniffed the air for her scent. They came to a halt, Tyrion and Missandei stepping aside. Daenerys stood next to a tall grizzled warrior with bear sigils on his armor. Daenerys stepped forward, "These are my dragons and children Drogon and Rheagal." Sigligon nodded "Beautiful names your Grace." 

Daenerys studied her and Korb for a few seconds a brow lifting. "I will have a man search you for weapons, he will be through do you understand?" Sigligon nodded. One of the Unsullied stepped forward and removed his helmet, he had a wide nose and lips he frowned and held himself rigid but he had highly emotive eyes. Sigligon stepped forward and removed her cape entirely, making sure to pass it to a nearby Unsullied. 

She lifted her harms and stared intently forward, trying to gauge the dragons reception. She ignored as the Unsullied man's hands squeezed and clamped down on every crevice and curve she had. She felt her cheeks blush when he searched more through then she expected below the waist but he was quick and relatively gentle. He rose ad felt on her clavicle the wooden whistle necklace she wore. He lifted it and she allowed him to take it off her neck. 

Instantly she felt bare without it. The man turned to Daenerys in a thick accent he spoke: "There is only this My Queen." Daenerys glanced at the necklace then to Sigligon "It is a whistle, to contact Korb or call Tikoros...Korb's Falcon from the sky." Daenerys nodded "I see, you may collect it from Korb after." Sigligon felt a small twinge of regret, the whistle could have helped her out greatly in this endeavor but she would make the best of it.

Daenerys stepped to the side, "You may approach how you wish." Daenerys remained cold with an air of superiority, to Sigligon she felt like a small prey animal being circled by a hungry wolf. Sigligon stared ahead at the two dragons, they sniffed the air and looked from Daenerys to Sigligon to the others around them. Around the dragons were the scattered remains of countless carcasses, the ground, and bones alike charred black from their flames.

Sigligon moved forward looking intently to Drogon.  _"Rytsas konīr gevie mēre"  'hello there beautiful one'_ she greeted him. Drogon looked to her, his eyes flickering in some form of recognition, but she could tell that there was a feral wildness to this dragon, he was untamed and unbroken, a free spirit.  Sigligon continued forward, Drogon shifted his feet unsure of the situation and unsure of her, his neck fringes rose and fell and he churred constantly.

Sigligon stopped  _"Nyke nūmāzma ao daor ōdrikagon Drōgon" 'I mean you no harm Drogon'_ She stated standing there patiently. Slowly Sigligon brought her hands to her mouth, she cupped them while placing both her thumbs into the corners of her mouth, she blew, her air catching inside her cupped hands, with east she whistled out three notes, notes that were universal to dragons as a 'friendly' greetings.

Drogon cocked his head at the noise, he began to chur in curiosity at her. Sigligon felt an elated feeling, this was a good sign. There were still chances of this going badly but she had a feeling to keep to what she knew. Still keeping her hands cupped to her mouth she blew again two longer notes, starting low to going high. This was how young dragons would tell older dragons they meant no harm. Drogon's frills rose and fell faster, he was excited, these sounds were feeding into his instinct, even if he did not know it he was responding.

Drogon called out this time, going from high to low, a response of  _'I too mean no harm'_ Sigligon stood there and repeated the calls two more times, each time Drogon answering. She was speaking to him, she felt so happy, but she had to remain calm. Slowly she approached again, she spoke to him in common, her voice soft but loud. "Hello there strong one, you are so beautiful...your scales are black as onyx...you remind me so much of Belarion's drawings, I wonder if you are related to him maybe?" 

She stood ten feet away now, she could feel his hot breath exhaling from his body. He stared at her his eyes curious and thankfully calm. "My name is Sigligon Dilis, you don't know me, but I have read so much of your kind, you are such intelligent creatures aren't you?"  One step closer Drogon's head began to lower towards her. "I wonder how long you waited to hatch, the spark of life can live for thousands of years in eggs." Two steps she could see and study every scale on his face in detail.

The ground shook beneath her from the Dragons weight. "You look well, I bet you eat well enough...though not many seas to fish in is there?" Drogon blinked slowly, she knew he could understand human's words, Dragons had to of, somehow in some way. "Dragon's love fish don't they, I bet you can dive far into the water's and grab an entire whale calf if you wanted." She was only three feet away now, all she had to do was reach her hand out.

"I am going to lift my hand now, is that okay?" she asked Drogon. Drogon considered her for a few moments. He breathed in and out, his lungs like a pair of bellows as they pushed cold air in and out from them. Tentatively she lifted her hand slowly, she did not move it forward instead she waited. Drogon blinked his large pupils focusing on her. She could see her reflection in his eye. Drogon turned his head slightly then gently so very gently he brushed his nostril against her hand.

It was warm and she felt the bellow of air as he sniffed her. He took in her scent and with a small chur he pressed his nose against her hand. They connected and Sigligon let go the breath that she had been holding in. Her heart was beating so wild. Drogon was a completely strange dragon, and she had managed to approach and touch him. Her father had to be so proud. She let her hand run alongside his scales, they were hard like stones and prickly but she loved the feel of them.

Slowly she stroked above his lips, then after a few moments, she brought her other hand down underneath his jaw, trying to remember the place on Mele's jaw that made him purr like a kitten she set out to find Drogon's. He was a good dragon and deserved a good scratching for being brave and letting her pet him. She moved her fingers up through the scale crevices, then in slow ministrations circled her fingers around to find his spot.

The first one did not yield the chorus of purr's but the second spot she tried made him sing. Loudly for all to hear he purred like a giant cat, his eyes closed as he leaned into her hand. An act that made Sigligon nearly fall over. But she stayed and kept doing it, her other hand continued to stroke along his cheeks and finally to the softer skin near and around his eyes. "Oh, is that your sweet spot is it?" She asked Drogon keeping her eyes fixtured to his.

Giggling to herself she leaned forward and blew gently into his nose so that he could take her full scent. He opened his eyes at this but huffed letting her know he was relaxed. She stood and continued to scratch all under his jaw and stroke his head, finally after some time she stepped away from him her finger's sore from digging in between his scales. Sigligon stepped backward and noticed Rheagal was now next to his brother, he chirped nervously and sniffed Drogon, checking him to make sure he was not hurt.

Sigligon took a step forward to Rheagal, Rheagal leaned away from her unsure of what to do. "Your okay Rheagal, I am not here to hurt you either." Rheagal considered her for a few moments still apprehensive. Sigligon decided she would have to show him. She reached out again and stroked Drogon who gladly accepted her attention once more. Rheagal shifted himself as he surveyed them. Sigligon could see the wheels of conscious thought turning in his head. He grumbled out to Drogon speaking in ways only dragons could speak to one another.

Drogon answered him with a higher pitch keen. Finally, Rheagal was convinced. He pushed himself forward towards Sigligon he sniffed at her enthusiastically. Sigligon smiled at him and placed a hand in front of his nostrils, once again she could feel the hot steamy breath of a dragon prickle over her skin. Rheagal's pupils dilated than focused on her. She ran a hand smoothly up his nose, Rheagal's frills relaxed and his head lowered as he exhaled his breath stinking of sulfur and meat. She scrunched her nose but continued her movements. 

Sigligon now had a hand on both dragons, they relaxed beneath her touch and seemed to enjoy the attention she gave them when she scratched under their jaws and up near their noses. Sigligon did not ask them for anything she only gave what they asked for. After some time she backed away, both dragons stared after her earnestly. Briefly, she saw a flicker of sadness cross their eyes, they did not want to see her go. Sigligon gave them small smiles but turned away from them and looked to the Queen.

Daenerys stood stiffly. A look of shock on her face, in her eyes, floated a myriad of emotions. Confusion, anger, sadness and even a look of possible acceptance. Daenery's guards stood firmly next to her, the Unsullied betrayed no emotion. The man next to Daenerys had turned his head and was staring at Daenerys concern flooding his blue eyes. Sigligon glanced over to Jon and Ser Davos both stood staring at Sigligon. Ser Davos gave a small shrug and a look that told her that he was impressed with what had had just witnessed.

Sigligon unsure of what to do next did the only thing she could think of. She bent a knee and lowered her head "It is done My Queen unless you ask of me another test." A deafening silence was beginning to take hold. Sigligon's heart was pounding in her chest she could feel the blood roaring in her ears. Behind her, she could feel Drogon and Rheagal sniffing at her feet and back. She kneeled there in the snow unknowing of what to do next. 

"How did you do that?" Daenerys voice choked out, it was obvious she was still in shock. Sigligon looked up into Daenery's eyes. Her initial emotions had seemed to pass, she now stood there in genuine confusion. Sigligon cleared her throat. "Well...I used the greet and flee approach, greet the dragons allow them to come to you, get your scent....give them some positive attention then fall back..." Daenerys processed this information she stepped in closer. "Your first time ever seeing a dragon, and you just did that...how?" she demanded.

Sigligon searched her mind on how to explain. There wasn't anyway, no more lies she had to speak the truth. "I did it because these are not the only dragons I have seen." Daenerys stepped backward recoiling in disbelief. Sigligon stayed kneeling. "Korb bring the chest, it is time for the Queen to see her gift." Daenerys stared at her, their eyes locked in a battle of wills. Daenerys blinked and turned, Sigligon could see a wave of anger burning within her but it was being held at bay. Korb stepped forward the Unsullied pointed their spears but Daenerys motioned them to let him pass.

Korb walked forward and stopped a few feet away from Daenerys. Korb studied Sigligon and then glanced to the dragons then back to her. Sigligon wordlessly assured him with a nod of her head. Fear was beginning to take hold in her, maybe they were wrong, maybe Daenerys wouldn't be gracious or wise enough to see reason, but this was her last hope. Korb set the chest on the ground, he leaned down and began to open it. Daenerys bodyguard the man with the bear armor stepped forward his hand on his hilt.

Korb ignored him and slowly opened the chest, there was a small layer of papers that Korb upheaved into the snow. Underneath that there was a skin of a boar, he removed that and the bear Knight's eyes widened. At this time due to the angle of everything Daenerys could not see what lie within. "What is it Ser Jorah?" Daenerys asked her anger seemed to have faded and concern and uneasiness taking hold. The man, Ser Jorah turned to Daenerys "Look my Khaleesi." Jorah stepped aside, there inside the chest was the gift for the Queen, six dragon eggs tucked up with smoldering ashes from last nights fire to keep them warm.

Daenerys walked forward slowly, visibly shaking she knelt down in the snow. Korb took a step back and kneeled as well. Daenerys hands ran over the eggs she traced their delicate shells. Finally, after sometime Sigligon spoke "My Queen, it is cold I do not wish to have them in the open for very long." Daenerys paused and turned her head to Sigligon, Daenerys was still kneeling at the chest and seemed to have forgotten about everyone. "I apologize," Daenerys said her anger gone. She rose and covered the eggs with the boar skin and closed the lid.

Turning around to Sigligon she stood contemplating for a few seconds. "These are the gift of my House, they are eggs we have produced for your family...some of them are from the time of Aegon the Conqueror, others were laid after... we were sworn after the dance of Dragons to keep their existence secret, and we were to wait until the Targaryen who was worthy of them would come along...we believe that to be you, so please allow us to step out of the darkness and let us join you in the light." This was all that Sigligon had left, she waited kneeling in the snow, the wind and cold beginning to blow causing her to shiver and shake. Pleading she looked into Daenerys eyes and waited for the Dragon Queen's answer. 

 


	24. Chapter 24 -Trust-

_Daenerys Targaryen_

Daenerys was adrift in the sea of thoughts in her mind. On one hand to see someone approach her dragons and to touch and pet them astounded her. Here she thought the woman would have been sent running away screaming to be near her children but Sigligon had proved to be unfazed by the dragons. In fact, she was even able to communicate to them through whistles astounded her, here she thought that was impossible.

The other impossibility that happened was that her dragons purred, sounds that she had not heard since they were young hatchlings. All in all several impossible events happened in short succession. When Sigligon had finished with the Dragons and knelt to her Daenerys realized that her abilities were not something one could read about, Sigligon was too relaxed and at ease with her dragons, either the girl was daft or there was something more.

Daenerys thoughts were eventually confirmed. When Sigligon confessed Daenerys was baffled, surely then Siglgion was an utter lunatic and had been wasting her time? Anger had grown inside her then, she was tired of her time being wasted and tired of all the lies. But then the last unthinkable thing happened. A chest was brought before her, it was the very same one that they had carried with them all along. 

Korb had placed in the snow and opened it. Ser Jorah stepped forward to protect her in case it was a trap but then he paused. At the time she could not see Ser Jorah's expression, but when he turned and she saw his mystified eyes her anger softened. Replaced instead by befuddlement once more. Ser Jorah had stepped to the side bidding her to look upon what was in the chest. Daenerys looked past him and to the chest, there in the smoldering embers was six very familiar items.

They were half-buried but the ovular scaled eggs were distinctive. Dragon eggs, six of them, nestled inside a box at her feet. She walked forward, she had thought she would never see eggs again, assumed that her dragons would be the last perhaps. She was now filled with awe, forgetting everything and every one she ran her hands over the smooth stones. She was teleported back to her younger days when she was a mere Khaleesi the wife of Khal Drogo when she would gaze upon her eggs and draw strength from them. 

Back then she was weak and afraid, but those three stones were what she drew her strength from, she would caress them each night and turn them over in the fires. Instinct guiding her until at last she managed to hatch the eggs, and that day forward she became the Mother of dragons. Peering down at the eggs she studied them closely. One was a dark brown flecked with copper tones, the next was an amethyst color that faded into blue, there was a light yellow colored one that sat next to an egg of slate gray that seemed to be the oldest. The next two were similar colors, one was a verdant green that was patched with whites while the next was pale green that bled into silver.

Daenerys sat there for a long while contemplating how could these precious eggs survive all this time. A voice brought her from her thoughts. "My Queen, it is cold I do not wish to have them in the open for very long." It was Sigligon's, suddenly Daenerys was brought back from her memories and crushing thoughts in an instant. She realized that the heat from the chest was fading, the eggs needed to stay warm. 

Immediately she rose, absently she apologized before leaning down and covering the eggs up with the boar skin and closing the lid. She turned around and faced Sigligon, the pleading look on her face the way those eyes begged her. " Sigligon spoke her voice beseeching "These are the gift of my House, they are eggs we have produced for your family...some of them are from the time of Aegon the Conqueror, others were laid after... we were sworn after the dance of Dragons to keep their existence secret, and we were to wait until the Targaryen who was worthy of them would come along...we believe that to be you, so please allow us to step out of the darkness and let us join you in the light."

Daenerys studied Sigligon, she was speaking the truth, an outlandish truth but a truth none the less. Although she could hardly make sense of everything she just knew that Sigligon was right, for whatever reason, it was Sigligon's task in life was to constantly remain hidden in the darkness waiting for the day of her arrival, they had always been waiting for her. For all these years since before she was born Sigligon and her family had been loyal, in a strange and hard to believe way but loyal none the less, waiting for her because they believed in her, believed in her cause, they knew she was their Queen and they have provided her with the greatest gift she could ever receive...and yet she could not in good conscious just allow this person to join her, no matter how loyal no matter how much Daenerys believed her.

Daenerys stepped forward and glanced down at Sigligon she mulled over the conundrum that she was in at the moment. "It is very obvious that you care about me, care about being loyal to me....but I cannot in good faith accept you into my service, I do not know you, and although you have proven yourself to my dragons I cannot justify the possibilities of endangering my dragons...do you understand?" Sigligon's face crumpled but she nodded silently. Daenerys glanced over to Jon, he quirked an eyebrow at her. Daenerys grimaced and turned back to Sigligon "However that being said I will contemplate on the best course of action, you nor Korb will be harmed but I must keep you under guard until I come to a conclusion on whether or not I shall trust you." 

Sigligon lowered her head, submitting to her. Daenerys watched as Rheagal and Drogon gave last curious sniffs to Sigligon before they moved away, interestingly enough Daenerys saw a flicker of sadness in their eyes. Briefly, Daenerys wondered if she made the right choice. But she shook her head  _'No this had to be done, I cannot just accept something like this without caution and time to process, I must be smart.'_ Daenerys turned to see Grayworm and two of his soldiers already bringing Korb to his feet and taking his sword from the man's belt.

Daenerys saw the flicker of fury from having his sword taken, his mouth twisted in a snarl, protest contorting in his lips. "Your sword will be returned to you eventually, it will not come to harm," Daenerys assured Korb. Korb glanced to her, his eyes softened slightly but his face was still knitted in anger. The Unsullied grabbed him by his elbows and began to guide him to Winterfell but he planted his feet on the ground "I will not leave Sigligon" he declared forcefully. Daenerys lifted a brow to Grayworm who immediately walked over to face Korb. 

"The Queen wants you to go now, she is not yet done with Sigligon." Korb met Grayworm's eyes, Korb's eyes were filled with such a fiery passion and resolution a slight shiver went down her spine, only the strongest of warriors had looks such as that. Grayworm attempted to grab Korb's arm and move him by force, but even with the combined efforts of the three Unsullied, they could not move Korb's towering mass. "Let him be, he is Sigligon's protector it is natural for him to want to stay." Daenerys turned to Sigligon "Stand, we will lead you to your quarters." Daenerys commanded turning away as two more Unsullied advanced on Sigligon.

Daenerys walked away, her Unsullied leading her two person's of Interests away back into the keep of Winterfell. All the while she heard her children in the sky crying out and for the first time in Daenerys life, she somehow knew that they were not calling to her. 

_Sigligon Dilis_

Shame filled Sigligon, shame, and disappointment. Her cheeks burned red not from the snow or cold but from pure embarrassment. She kept her hands clasped in front of her and stared down at the ground, out of the corner of her eye she could see Korb walking. Silently she apologized and begged for forgiveness, although there was a slim chance that perhaps Daenerys may change her mind, Sigligon felt as if that chance was fleeting and far from becoming true.  _'I get it, it is hard to believe, she probably feels threatened and is doing what she thinks is best...if only we contacted her sooner...maybe then?'_ But she let the thoughts fall away just as she had let all protest fall away.

They were led back into the keep, through the various all too similar slate gray halls of Winterfell until they traveled down a dark corridor, then at a door that swung open on squeaking hinges, both of them were led up a series of stairs that circled and winded their way through a tower. The air in the tower had a chill to it, but it wasn't unbearable. Near the top of the tower, the was a small hallway that ringed around the opening of the stairs, there were five older looking doors. The entire area of the hall was abandoned of all furnishings besides a simple small table and set of chairs nearby a narrow slit in the wall, it was an Arrowslit window, a castle fortification that allowed one to fire arrows off against invaders.

She shivered as she heard the high pitched whistle of the wind, the way its sound reverberated off the walls of the tower and echoed down the stairs, it sounded like a long forlorn moan. Daenerys stood next to a door, a nearby Unsullied opened it inwards. Both of them were ushered into the room. It was sparse of furnishings, only the very basic of things, two older looking worn chairs, a single bed with oak frame with thin gray blankets folded on the edge, and one small fireplace with only a few paultry 'logs' that looked more like twigs.

Other than that the room was barren, no bookshelves no table no other comforts of any means.  _'This is a prison cell'_   Sigligon thought to herself. The only light within the cell came from two small circular windows on either side of the fireplace. Sigligon turned and saw Korb's grim expression. Behind him stood Daenerys, she, the tall bear Knight and Tyrion who was frowning his face troubled in thought. Near the edge of the steps outside the room stood Jon and Ser Davos who both looked rather annoyed at the situation but neither voiced their concerns.

Korb spoke up "I have a falcon in our wagon, his name is Tikoros, he is in a cage if you could bring him?" Korb's voice was filled with worry. Daenerys glanced to Tyrion. Tyrion met Daenerys they shared a look before Tyrion turned back to Korb "We will put him under the care of the Maester in the raven's tower if that suites you?" Korb nodded "For now that shall be acceptable, we also had horses and a cart."

Daenerys spoke up "We will make sure all animals are cared for to the best of our ability, do you need anything else?" Sigligon spoke, "Could you bring me a book from our wagon, I have a large pile of them on the left-hand side, any of them will do." Tyrion nodded "I believe a book and some reading candles should be fine to give, you will need a way to pass the time for now as our Queen comes to a decision." Daenerys parted her lips for a second but then closed them as Tyrion spoke, perhaps she had wanted to say something but was cut off.

With that Daenerys nodded her head and turned to retreat back outside. Sigligon noticed that two of the Unsullied held the chest of eggs between them. Satisfied that at least the eggs would be safe for now she conceded to go to the fireplace and begin to start the fire from a small flint and steel. Then the heavy door was shut in a definitive manner a cold and heavy silence fell within the room, Sigligon blew on the small sparks of fire she had created and within minutes a tiny fire was burning in the room.

Sigligon turned to Korb who had crossed the room and plopped himself into a chair. He sighed heavily his head hanging. Sigligon sighed as well glancing to the door then to the floor around them. Already she felt choked, the thought that she couldn't move or go freely from this room made her on edge, she paced for a bit in front of the window glancing between it and the floor as she ran her hand through her hair trying to think.

Korb spoke, "I guess we were wrong, we shouldn't have come." Sigligon shook her head "No, we weren't wrong....we just didn't explain it to her-" She began but was cut off as Korb exclaimed "What more could we have done!?? We showed her the documents! You passed her test! We even showed her the eggs and she still does not believe us!" Korb pushed the table away from him it screeched across the stone floor clattering with the chair on the other side.

Sigligon stood there bracing against the fury in Korb's voice. Because of the room that they were in his words were intensified in their volume sounding like the roars of a bear or lion. Sigligon bit her lip and slid against the wall. Korb seemed to have a point, nothing seemed to have worked. Here she had dreamed that Daenerys would be the understanding and gracious Queen, but that wasn't right, Daenerys was still human, she was allowed to have misgivings, maybe they should have done a different approach.

Dejected Sigligon rubbed her hand against her face, she could feel the hot tears of frustration begin to fall from them. "I...I don't understand...I did everything right...at least I thought I did, but what do we do... we can't stay here Korb..." Instantly her mind went to the dragons, she had to get to them somehow, Queen or no Queen, the Talia oil would only last for so long, she had to get back to her dragons.

Korb stood and shuffled his way over to where she sat leaning against the cold wall. He casually slid down next to her, his face glum. A few moments of silence was shared between them before Korb spoke up "Maybe we should have never left home."  _Home,_ that word evoked dozens of feelings within Sigligon. Maybe they should have stayed there, waited for a better time, or maybe they should have left it long ago, crossed the narrow sea and found Viserys and Daenerys when they could have. She missed home, the tiny house they had, the welcoming fireplace and loaded bookshelves, she sounds of the sea in the distance.

She daydreamed about home, imagining herself cooking a stew, the aroma of venison filling the room. Korb over near the fireplace singing to Tikoros, the feeling of peace enveloping them, wrapping her in its warm embrace, whispering in her ear all was well and all was safe. But it was only a distant dream, now they were wrapped in cold, dark hands gripping them in place as threats were hissed in her ear, 'fight or die, fight or die' was all it said.

_Tyrion Lannister_

Tyrion walked silently behind Daenerys, his short legs working harder to keep up with her quick strides. She carried her head high as she left the tower, down the halls they went headed back to her rooms. Tyrion could feel the coming storm, it was very clear on Jon's face that he was not happy with how Daenerys handled this situation. Jon and Davos followed, they were not invited to but at this time they could not refuse their gracious hosts. Finally, they made it to Daenerys chambers, she had a large room on the bottom floor, tucked away in a secluded corner of the keep.

Tyrion walked in behind Daenerys, Ser Jorah stood to Tyrion's left, both men crossed the room and stood to the left of Daenerys, facing towards the door. Daenerys had already perched herself in front of the fire, warming herself eagerly. Varys had disappeared and Missandei was reporting to the kitchen to get drinks brought to Daenerys quarters. Two Unsullied carried in the chest of eggs. They set them down at Daenerys feet. Daenerys dismissed them and they left, only he Ser Jorah and Daenerys was in the room.

Jon appeared in the doorway, his face set and his eyes dark, Ser Davos followed behind. Tyrion cleared his throat "Welcome your Grace, have a seat if you would like?" Tyrion suggested out of courtesy but knew already Jon would refuse. Jon took a few steps forward and placed himself parallel to Daenerys on the other side of the fire. Jon waited a few moments before he spoke, sternly but not angerly he began. "I had thought you gave them your word." he prodded at Daenerys. Daenerys looked up to him "I did, but I did not say I would welcome them right away, I must think on the matter...I cannot just accept anyone into my service...surely you understand?" she questioned him softly.

Jon glanced down into the flames, they lit up only half his face, the other half was cast in shadow. "Aye, I get that, but why put them in the tower? You are all but imprisoning them," he stated. Daenerys sighed and glanced into the fire "Where else would I put them? I need to have them somewhere where I can keep an eye on them, it's obvious she can get near my dragons...do you think I would allow an untrustworthy person who can approach my dragons be free to walk about?" Daenerys replied to her voice calm and collected.

Jon rubbed his chin with the back of his hand for a few moments. "I get that now, but in the future please ask before you assume to use Winterfell's rooms to keep...prioners." He said after a pause unsure of what else to call them. Daenerys smiled "They are not prisoners, merely monitored guests." she quipped. Jon's face contorted into one of exasperation, "I am not one to do word games, they are kept in a room and not allowed to leave, that means that they are a prisoner." Daenerys was silent Jon continued. "What if I had done the same to you when you came to Winterfell, asked you to stay here in this room under watch, would you not consider yourself a prisoner?" 

For a moment Tyrion could see the wheels in Daenerys head begin to turn, a look of realization was crossing her mind. She glanced away from Jon "I get what you are saying your Grace, however, these are entirely different matters...we are allies here to fight against the dead, they are outsiders and have not yet earned my trust, I am looking out for my better interest." Daenerys explained a brow raised. Jon's lips twitched, he wanted to argue further, Tyrion could tell but in a wise move, Jon conceded. "Very well, but I do not wish to keep them there for long, the tower is cold and harsh, be sure to give your monitored guests enough wood and food to keep them comfortable." Jon gave Daenerys a quick nod "I will be outside overseeing fortifications if you need anything else?" Daenerys shook her head "No, thank you for your counsel your Grace." she replied to him nodding her head.

Jon turned to leave but stopped suddenly, staring at Ser Jorah. Tyrion followed Jon's line of sight. The King in the North was staring at the blade Korb had been wearing around his waist before the Unsullied removed it. The scabbard was crude in appearance, the leather that made the scabbard was old, faded and well worn. Ser Jorah held the blade across his arms, allowing for a bit of the sword to come away from its sheath, Tyrion could see just a tiny sliver of the blade. Ser Jorah glanced down and a look of shock came over his face, he slid the blade out of its scabbard.

The blade, a shortsword shone with a resplendent silver, with hues of blue and even purple as the light danced off the blade. Ser Jorah spoke low "This blade is Valyrian steel." Everyone glanced to Daenerys. "Isn't that a very rare here in Westeros?" Ser Jorah nodded "Incredibly...although at the moment here in Winterfell there is quite a collection of them growing." Jorah mused studying the blade meticulously. "For the lad to give this up willingly shows much to his character," Jorah commented out loud. Tyrion glanced to Daenerys, she bit her lip and studied the blade with the rest of them.

"He wasn't incredibly willing," Daenerys commented. Jon shrugged "No, but willing enough, you won't find many who would do that...he did it because he trusts you." Jon pointed out his eyes meeting Daenerys. Tyrion watched as Daenerys lowered her gaze, once more her thoughts were turning over in her mind. Ser Jorah sheathed the sword. Jon gave Ser Jorah a curt nod and left. Once he was gone Daenerys turned to Tyrion, "Please go take care of the requests made by Siglison and Korb, we need to make sure to make them comfortable." Tyrion bowed his head and left, leaving Daenerys and Ser Jorah to their own. 

Once outside in the courtyard of Winterfell, he was joined by Ser Davos. "Going to go get the lad's bird?" Ser Davos remarked. Tyrion nodded "Yes, and a book for the Lady Dilis." he answered as they both made their way towards the wagon. A pair of large draft horses, both white in color stood beside the wagon, as well as a black and chestnut tied off on the back. Tyrion called for a nearby stableboy, the boy came over and Tyrion motioned to the horses, without a word the boy instantly shot over to them and began leading the horses back towards the stables. 

Ser Davos and Tyrion studied the wagon. "Good craftsmanship" Ser Davos commented as Tyrion made his way to the back. He climbed up the steps awkwardly and opened the door. The inside of the wagon was filled. on either side were two distinct piles. The left had stacks and boxes of books as well as vials of different colored liquids, glass jars of dried leaves, grasses and flowers, a few mortar and pestle of varying sizes lay around. There was a small trunk or two for clothing, and interestingly enough an armor stand with simple leather armor emboldened with the Targaryen sigil. 

On the floor lay a strange-looking weapon, to Tyrion it looked like a spear, only there were spears on both ends of the staff, it looked to him after some scrutiny that one would hold the weapon in the middle. On top of that, the metal on both ends had a hook-like tip to each. Tyrion made sure to not go near the metal, there was countless quivers of arrows as well as stacks upon stacks of leather squares. Near the leather was two large containers of wax. On the other side of the wagon was an armor stand with heavier metal armor also emboldened with the Targaryen sigil, there were a few normal steel shortswords and two powerful looking bows. 

The sound of a birds beak chattering at him brought Tyrion's attention to the front of the wagon. There inside a large wooden birdcage was a gray and white-colored bird. Its beak was mostly yellow except for the hooked tip which was a dark gray while the yellow extended up to encircle the eyes. The falcon's plumage pattern was mostly white with dark stripes and dots. "Ah" Tyrion commented "I found the falcon." said falcon put it's head low and puffed out its feathers snapping its beak wildly. Upon seeing this Tyrion said out loud "I don't think it likes me." 

Tyrion turned and grabbed a bit of fabric, he carefully tossed it over the hissing bird's cage. After a little bit, the bird went quiet and Tyrion carefully picked the cage up. It was hard to do with his size but he just managed and he carried it over to the door of the wagon where Ser Davos stood. Ser Davos took the cage from him and Tyrion turned, he longed to study all the books but absently he just grabbed one that didn't look to old or too expensive. He glanced down at the title, but it looked to be in Valyrian, which he could only read a few letters of and just barely spoke. Ser Davos took the falcon to the Maester while Tyrion returned up to the tower to give the book to Sigligon. Tyrion traveled back through Winterfell, thankfully he was mostly ignored which he liked, for now, eventually he made his way up the many steps of the Winterfell tower.

_Sigligon Dilis_

Sigligon and Korb sat in front of the fire, the cold in the room eventually forced them there. Her limbs numb Sigligon longed for the cloak that was taken from her. Korb thankfully still had his and wrapped the cloak around the both of them. Sigligon leaned her head against his shoulder staring into the paultry fire before them. A knock at the door made them both turn to it. An Unsullied soldier entered his arms laden in wood. He set the wood down next to the window, with a bow he left.

After he came a second who bore a tray with two bowls of hot soup and a small loaf of freshly baked bread. They split the loaf and soaked it into their broth, Sigligon let the bowl warm her fingers as Korb filled the fireplace. Soon a fire was roaring and crackling away. Now more comfortable they pushed the wooden chairs close to the fire and sat in comfortable silence as they ate. After a little more time had passed they heard the door opening once more.

It was Tyrion! Sigligon felt herself smiling despite her situation, during their talks together she had found him an agreeable person to talk to, he was highly intelligent and had good humor. Tyrion gave them both a smile as he nodded to each addressing them "My lady,...Korb" Korb spoke first "Tikoros?" he questioned Tyrion nodded "He is in good hands." Tyrion turned to Sigligon and gave her the book he had taken. 

"I didn't know which one to take, so I chose the one that looked the least fragile," he commented handing her the book.  _'Cleansing the Flame; the studies of Dragonic properties and how they can heal Vol. 1'_ Was the title. Sigligon laughed "This is one of the few from my library that I have not read yet, thank-you my lord." Tyrion smiled "Well anything we can do to make your time comfortable." he replied to her.

Korb gave Tyrion a leveling gaze "And just how long are we going to be here?" Tyrion was silent for a moment as he studied Korb, after a pause, he answered: "Not very long, the Queen just has to make her decision."  Korb sighed angrily but did not say anything. "I understand your frustration, I wish I could have the Queen decided faster but she is of her own mind, just know that I speak highly of you and recognize your skills for what they are...valuable and needed."

Sigligon gazed into Tyrion's eyes they shone with a resolution, she knew that she could trust Tyrion that he would be their ally. "Thank-you Lord Tyrion." she murmured as she traced over the cover of the book. "You are very welcome," he said bowing fully. As he stood up he proclaimed "I apologize but I must return to Daenerys, please enjoy your fire and your book." Tyrion turned and exited the room, as he did the heavy door closed indefinitely behind him.

When he was gone Siglgion turned to Korb and in the softest whisper she said: "I have a plan on how to escape, I need your help." Korb raised a brow but nodded "Whatever you need." he said firmly a playful light in his eyes. Sigligon grinned at him, she always knew she could count on Korb. "Bring me those blankets from the bed, and move the bed over by the window." Without question, Korb did as she asked. Sigligon glanced out at the sky, it would be dark in at least four or so hours, she had to move now, her dragons were waiting.

 


	25. Chapter 25 -Escape-

_BlackDog_

BlackDog marched up the steps of the tower, it was his turn to guard the holding cell of his Queen's guests. The fellow Unsullied soldier nodded his head to him in reverence of his rank. He was now a captain recently promoted after his actions when taking Casterly Rock, a position that they now no longer held but still they had taken it. 

BlackDog stepped out of the way as the other Unsullied troop made his way down the steps. BlackDog stepped forward and slid open the viewing window of the door. There were two guests, the male was sitting next to the bed that was now against the window. The window itself was now covered with cloth, most likely because of the two occupants of the room were doing their best to fight against the cold. 

He did not like Westeros, he did not like the cold, he had been born in a land of heat and sun, here it was cold and damp. They had a good-sized fire burning, and BlackDog could see the silhouette of a person laying under the blankets. BlackDog nodded and closed the window satisfied knowing that both guests were accounted for.

He stood in a position to the left of the door and let his mind go blank, his body had long adjusted to the stress of standing at attention, it was second nature to him now. Unsullied do not feel, Unsullied do not run, Unsullied only fight for their master, his master was Daenerys Targaryen he would serve her for the rest of his days. This was the mantra that he put in his head and he repeated it waiting for when someone else would take over the duty of guarding this cell.

_Sigligon Dilis -A few hours prior-_

They moved the bed over to one of the small circular windows. Sigligon had measured them with her eye, they were just wide enough to let a person of her size shimmy through if she completely broke out all the glass and removed the wooden crossguards that held the glass panes in place. These rooms where not meant to be cells, they were designed to be bedrooms or perhaps a study. Although most would blanch at the idea of scaling down the side of a stone tower Sigligon did not fear it, to her, it was merely an annoying obstacle to overcome.

She had ridden and flew on the backs of dragons, the height of this tower was insignificant in comparison. Once the bed had been moved, Sigligon went to the task of ripping one of the blankets into long strips that were only as thick as her knuckle joint to her fingertip. While she did this carefully and quietly, Korb started up a song to help cover up the noise of her actions. 

His sonorous baritone voice filled the room with simple sea shanties. Bright and lively their notes danced in the air around him. Sigligon would chime in at times with her own voice, although she would never be a beautiful singer she was content with the fact that she could at least match Korb's pitch. 

Working into the second verse Korb began to sway back in forth in time with the tune of the song, although they had no music both knew exactly how it went. Jovern would play the song nearly every night, it was fun and served as another reminder of how much she missed home. She worked her finger's into the thing fabric ripping it inch by inch until a long strip was produced from the blanket.

"As I was a-walking down Paradise Street,  
_To me way-aye, blow the man down._  
A pretty young damsel I chanced for to meet.  
_Give me some time to blow the man down!_

Sigligon chuckled at this verse and hummed the tune under her breath easing herself into the feeling of the song. She felt herself rock back and forth. When Korb paused to continue onto the next verse Sigligon sang it out, belting out the notes loud and proud she and Korb moved in rhythm.

"She was round in the counter and bluff in the bow,  
So I took in all sail and cried “Way enough now.”

On they went sharing the verses until the very last line of the song they both sang together, loudly and with great jest. Korb being as animated as possible waving his arms around "So I give you fair warning before we belay; Don’t never take heed of what pretty girls say." With the last word the both of them held it on the note then with no clear indication both happened to end the note at the same time.

Sigligon glanced down at her handiwork, a large pile of blanket strips lay on her legs and spilled down to the floor. She sighed and stretched out her fingers and hands for a few minutes before picking up the strands. Quickly the began to twist and braid them together, forming them together in a long link of good strong rope, at least enough to perhaps hold her weight.

Korb continued singing away the obnoxious tune of  _Drunken Sailor_ a tune that she relented to only joining in on the chorus parts. The tune was energetic and made her forget how long it takes one to braid so many fabric pieces together. The work went fast when one had a song, it was the reason why sea shanties were created, to begin with, songs that lifted the spirits of lonely men at sea as they worked together to keep a ship sailing so that they could live to see another day.

When the rope was finally braided together Sigligon studied its length, it wouldn't be long enough to reach ground level, but it should be enough to get her close enough to drop down from the height and not be injured, snow was piled up near the base of the tower that should help ease her fall.  Once her rope was done, she began to the task of hiding her disappearance.

First, she used Korb's cloak and bunched it up under a blanket on the cot, she used two other to form her legs ad body beneath the sheet. Once all of that was done there were only two unused blankets remaining. She backed away from the window and glanced to the door. So far no one had attempted to check in on them, satisfied that no one was aware of their actions Sigligon continued. She bunched and pressed the blanket next to the glass of the window. She could feel the cold even through the blanket. 

She turned to Korb who was working a peg of wood out of her chair, all the while singing the first verse of a song Sigligon didn't quite recognize, perhaps Korb had picked this one up in King's Landing. "Farewell and adieu to you, Essos Ladies," he began his voice loud and carrying. Slowly he was twisting away at the thinner wood that made up the supports for the back of the chair. His face contorted in effort yet his voice still sang along pleasant "Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Essos;" Korb put his foot onto the seat of the chair and held it in place while he heaved, all the while his voice hurled the next line of the song. "For we've received orders for to sail for Westeros,"

The word Westeros was half grunted as finally, the wooden peg came free away from the chair. Korb stared at the peg in his hand for a few seconds, his body unconsciously continued to sing. "But we hope in a short time to see you again." he sang softer as he closed the distance between him and her. Sigligon held the blanket in place while Korb set the peg against the window lengthwise. "We will rant and we'll roar like true strong sailors, We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea." He sang making sure to direct his voice towards the door, all the while he carefully tested the motion of his arm, he placed the flat of his hand just near the wrist against the other end of the peg, he then brought his arm back all the while keeping his arm steady.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, took a deep breath and then belting out the next line "Until we _strike"_ On the word strike he slammed his hand against the wooden peg, the force of his hand on the peg that was pressed against the window was effective, the window which was thin and brittle due to age cracked from the force, because of Sigligon's blanket the sound was muffled. Sigligon pushed the blanket forward making sure to force the broken shards of glass to fall outside the window rather than fall inwards into their cell. All the while Korb carried on with the rest of the verse

"Soundings in the channel Westeros; From Dorne to Lys is thirty-five leagues." Korb continued to hum the tune while Sigligon prepared herself and the blanket for the next window pane. With a nod of her head, Korb began the task of breaking the rest of the windowpanes all the while keeping up the facade that they were just singing to each other in comfort. When the window was entirely free from glass and the only thing that remained was a vertical and horizontal crossbar of wood that had originally held the glass in place Sigligon stepped off of the bed and let Korb take her place.

With a curt nod, Korb prepared for the next pit of breaking and pulling in the wooden crossbar's but to do that he would need noise. taking a deep breath Sigligon belted out the rest of the song, she had now learned the tune from Korb so she sang it fully and not caring if she went off-key. 

"Now let ev'ry man drink off his full bumper,  
And let ev'ry man drink off his full glass;  
We'll drink and be jolly and drown melancholy,  
And here's to the health of each true-hearted lass.  
We will rant and we'll roar like true strong sailors,  
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.  
Until we strike soundings in the channel of Westeros;  
From Dorne to Lys is thirty-five leagues."

Korb made quick work of the wooden bars and to help cover the evidence he walked them over to the fire and tossed them in. Sigligon admired their handiwork for a few moments before she went over to the window and peeked her head out. She could see the hustle and bustle of men concentrating on their tasks if any had heard or saw the glass break none commented, neither did any seem to notice her poking her head out of the window.

Thankfully the wall the window was located on was half tucked in a corner where the wall of the tower met with the perimeter wall of Winterfell. She glanced down at the drop below, it was nearly a 50ft drop to the ground below, her rope only went as far as 40, a ten-foot drop wasn't the worst drop and could be survivable but there was a risk of injury.

She could combat that by rolling when she landed, or she could slow herself down by gripping to the side of the tower. With a tentative plan in motion, she tied off an end of her makeshift rope to the frame of the bed. Korb walked over and helped her with the not making sure it was secured. He gave it a few good hard tugs before nodding affirmatively.

Sigligon double-checked that the rope was securely tied around her waist, making sure the knot would not tighten too much once her weight began to drag on it. The rope was tightly braided and coiled so she trusted it to hold her weight. Once all was ready she turned to Korb she felt a tremor of nervousness fill her. 

What she was about to do was dangerous. Not only to herself but to Korb, if they were found out it could be deadly. She closed her eyes and stepped out and hugged Korb. He was so large now bigger than father even. Korb gripped her tightly before stepping back and away. "Enough of that now, whatever happens, Sigi....it's okay, you have to go to them, you are the only one who can," he whispered to her.

Sigligon nodded but she couldn't shake off the painful heaviness within her chest, this was the closest she had ever come to the possibility of losing Korb. There was a good chance either she or he would be caught, but she had to be strong, she had to keep fighting. She lifted her head and set her jaw. "If Daenerys comes and she finds out I am gone...tell her the truth...all of it, it may save your life."

Shock covered Korb's face, "Are you sure?" He asked. Sigligon nodded "Yes, no more secrets, that how we got into this place, but do try and keep my disappearance hidden as long as you can, I will return with them when I can." Korb nodded understanding. His eyes were wide in worry and fear but he trusted her and believed that she could do as she said.

Sigligon gripped his forearm and squeezed it in reassurance. With a nod they parted, Sigligon walked up onto the bed and leaned her head out the window. It looked like the closest men were nailing together palisades or thatching arrows. Sigligon took a deep breath and began to ease herself out of the window feet first inch by inch.

Korb held her arms and helped lower her down through the opening. With one last shared look, Korb whispered "It's not goodbye" Sigligon felt a tear sting her eye as she nodded. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, her entire being was on edge, she needed to scale down fast but also as silent as possible. She gripped the outer wall of the tower tightly, the wall had deep crevices from where the mortar had eroded out from the stones that held the tower together.

This helped grant her purchase and she scaled downward, half climbing half sliding slowly thanks to the rope. She dared not take the time to stop and look to see if anyone was looking up, she would have heard the rise for alarm, she had found that moving fast helped one stay unnoticed. A guard would wonder if it was trick of the light, or if he was seeing things, had she gone slow and taken her time she would have been more obvious.

So fast and steady she went, lowering herself from her high tower. Scrabbling at the wall where she could the wind and ice threatening to make her lose purchase. Her heart beating away all the while in worry. _What if she was spotted? What if they were caught?_   She shook it from the mind, now was not the time to doubt. The cold was biting at her fingers making them go numb, the wall she clung to felt more like a brick of jaded ice versus stone. Down the line she went, concentrating on only her feet and hands and nothing else.

She slipped only once during her excursion, an action that had she not clenched her teeth shut would have resulted in her crying out and giving away her location. She paused for only a moment then to catch her breath and to still the shaking in her limbs. She breathed in then out slowly before continuing down. After what seemed like hours but was most assuredly only a few minutes she made it to the end of her rope. Only now did she dare look down. There was nobody! The area was being cleared out, a sudden change in the men, more panicked and grim expressions. 

Sigligon glanced down and looked for the telltale signs of the glass she had broken out but could not spot them from where she was. It was about ten or so feet between her and the ground. She debated untying the rope from her waist and just letting herself drop. She decided against that, instead, she scanned the wall below her and picked out a safe pathway in which to climb the remainder of the tower. Once she had decided on her path she began to undo the rope, it was hard to do one-handed but she managed. 

When the rope was undone she tugged it twice, instantly the rope was ascending upwards at a fast rate, like a giant snake slithering away. She was without a safety line now, she could not make a mistake. She straightened her jaw and with the image of her dragons fresh in her mind she climbed down the rest of the way, being careful and choosing the best foothold. Finally, she dropped down from the wall entirely it was jarring to be standing on flat land again. Briefly, she felt the burn of her arms and thighs while her fingers ached and throbbed from the cold.

She could not delay, she crossed over to a nearby wagon that was parked and hid against its side. Glancing around she surveyed the area. To the left of her was a large smithy, men were hammering away constantly, a stream of men carrying dark colored rocks and blades to and fro from the building and deposited them on nearby tables. All of them were caked and covered with the black dust, Sigligon glanced over the side of the wagon, there were crates of this dark stone, she knew what it was, Dragonsglass in its pure form! It had not been processed or melted yet. 

She darted a handout and rubbed her fingers against the rocks, gritty dark dirt the consistency of charcoal coated her fingers. She brought them to her face and applied it to her skin. It felt strange to do this, but she had to cover up as much as she could. She knew her hair would stand out. She took two hands and coated them with the dirt and ran it through her hair, streaks of gray and black now clung to her red waves. She glanced down to her clothing and patted it randomly with the dust, she had removed her chest piece that had the Targaryen sigil, that now rested in the bed with the blankets, instead, she only wore a thick undershirt, that was doing nothing by means of keeping out the cold. She began to shiver again, her perspiration from climbing now gone.

She glanced back into the wagon, furiously looking for some form of clothing that would keep her warm. Half of the wagon's contents were covered by a gray sheet. She lifted it slightly and smiled when she saw a few crates of random armor, one had several Stark helmets, the next had bundles of basic gray cloaks lined with rabbit fur, and another looked to have a few dark leathered chest cuirass's. Without a second thought, she dove into the wagon and under the sheet. Immediately she began to don on her new uniform, she grabbed the smallest looking cuirass and pulled it on quickly, latching the three buckle straps on her sides with ease. 

She then grabbed the warm gray cloak wrapping it around her shoulders and neck she sighed as it's heaviness began to trap her own body heat and warmed her. Lastly, she grabbed a helmet. It was a simple thing, undecorated metal with no adornments, it had no visor instead it clapped tightly to one's skull. A small lip of metal rose out the back part of the helmet, it was there to provide some defense against blows from the neck, it also kept rain from falling down one's armor.

The inside of the helm was lined with leather to give warmth to the wearer as well as providing additional padding to head blows. Sigligon quickly gathered her hair up in a bunch and twisted it all into a large knot on the top of her head before jamming the helm over her head. She buckled the chin strap and grimaced at the tight fit, helms such as these were not meant for women with large amounts of hair. 

After her wardrobe change, she snuck back out of the wagon. She looked about sheepishly as she made her way towards the south gate, just past the smithy. She changed her posture to one of confidence. She remembered her father telling her that the best way to blend in was to act as you belong. So walking with her shoulders back and chin up she made her way past the smithy.

As she went she overheard me speaking to one another "Lil' Lord Umber just came through the gates, says the dead men are comin this way" said one voice, another answered "By the god's we are not ready" one man piped up

"How did they get past the wall?"

"There were some Night's Watch, I saw the black cloaks."

"Will we have enough men?"

All around her she heard their worried voices, and yet these men remained and worked, they did their duties despite their fears, they had faith in their King. She tagged along with a random group of men walking outside the gates, she furthered her disguise by picking up a few quivers of arrows to act the part. No one paid her any mind, to them she was a fresh-faced boy who had yet to hold a sword, who had yet to fight in a battle.

When she was outside the gate she turned and gave one last look toward the tower she bit her lip and turned away, Korb would be strong he always was, he would always find a way. Once outside the gates, she moved with a purpose and dropped off her arrow quivers, she scampered across the grounds, her feet dancing over frozen mud and ice.

She made her way to the large pen of horses. No one questioned or asked why, in fact, most men were heading in the opposite direction of her, they were converging into Winterfell to receive orders on how to prepare she surmised. When she reached the line of horses she scanned them in hopes to find out one of their own personal horses, but to no avail, there was just too many horses.

Instead, she glanced over the nearest horses, studying them for their temperament and health. The bay to her left was docile but she could tell from the graying of its coat it would not have the strength or stamina of her task. The white horse in front of her was far to wild, its eyes were frantic and it snorted while nipping at all those who approached. The next horse a silver dapple had a limp. Finally, she spotted a small black mare barely larger than a pony, but she could tell it had the stamina for her task, a nice short back with a large chest and long supple legs, her head was held high but she had a kind eye.

Sigligon ducked under the fence and made her way to this horse, taking careful consideration around the more frantic of the horses. She came up directly to the mare, putting her hand out she let the mare sniff her she gave her a few small pats before she took hold of the mare's mane. Leading it this way to the edge of the fencing she found a leather bridle in the snow

Siglgion wiped it off of snow and placed it near the mare's mouth, surprisingly it took the bit well and Sigligon eased the rest of the bridle over the mares head. Clasping the throat latch she stepped away and took the reigns that hung down from the bridle. Sigligon turned and led the mare outside the fence. She gave the mare a small bit of hay from a bale nearby then she vaulted up unto the mares back.

Once in place, she directed the mare and pointed its head in the direction she needed to go. To her dragons, with a quick click of her tongue and slight pressure from her legs the mare was off trotting away from Winterfell with Sigligon on her back.

_Daenerys Targaryen_

Daenerys glanced over the battle plans, Jon, Ser Davos, Sansa, Ser Jorah, Grayworm, Tyrion, and so many others were gathered around this small table. They talked amongst one another discussing the best way to do battle plans. Daenerys narrowed her eyes at the map, so many white tiles, they looked like a neverending sea, a tidal wave hovering over them, threatening to take them all down.

She glanced to their own paltry numbers, they seemed too small in comparison even with all their armies together their defense was just a thin blanket attempting to shield the word from the strongest blizzard storm. Snow and ice would tear through them leaving nothing but darkness and death in its wake. She shook her head  _'No, we can do this, we have the Dragonglass and fire, it can work.'_ she thought to herself reassuringly. 

Jon spoke out "From what Lord Umber has reported the dead will be here either tonight or by early morning, we must prepare defenses as much as possible." Ser Jorah spoke up from beside Daenerys "They have the advantage of numbers...greatly." Jon grimly nodded "Aye, they do...which is why we are building three other trenches, in varying degrees of width and depth, if we set fires in them or put Dragonglass there it should slow them down...help funnel them in."

Ser Jorah nodded "So you have the Dothraki and the Knights of the Vale on the outsides of the infantry, to help flank?" Jon nodded Sansa spoke up "How can we assume that these tactics will work, had anyone ever fought an army of the undead? Do they even fight as we do?" Sansa spoke in a way that was calm yet also revealed a tone of doubt.

There was a silence all eyes went to Sansa and then to Jon. Jon sighed then spoke up "I don't know Sansa, but...it's all we got." he answered. A strange monotonous voice spoke up from near the fire, Daenerys snapped her head over much like everyone else in the room. "The Night King is no fool, he is very much like us...but he is also more, he will be a general that assumes he will always win...for who can win against death?"

It was Bran Stark, the strange half brother to Jon. Bran was the one who told them of Viserion's demise, Bran was the one who seemed to know a lot of things. This was because it was rumored he was a 'three-eyed raven' which Daenerys did not understand what it meant. Jon attempted to explain it, told her Bran was a warg, only with greater power, and his explanation for a warg was a simple shrug accompanying the phrase 'a person who can meld into the mind of an animal' the North was truly a strange place.

Daenerys spoke up "What does he want?" she directed the question to Bran. Bran turned his head towards her, with blank unblinking eyes he simply answered "Me" before pulling up his sleeve and revealing a scar. Bran continued "I am the memory of this world, if I die, so too does the world and all the men in it...he wants an endless night."

Another long silence before Jon spoke up "I won't let that happen." Bran turned his head to Jon and gave him a nod. Jon turned back to the table before them. Perhaps this battle plan could work...perhaps. When all the captains had been briefed they were dispersed, every man set to the task of fortifying and preparing. 

A strange emotion hung in the air as Daenerys went to her dragons, she could feel it from all in the keep. It was a mixture of high tension, grief, yet also acceptance. Many knew their fates and had resided to the facts of them. She had seen countless soldiers with long stares that seemed to be endless, it was haunting to view their eyes and she had to always tear her eyes away from them.

She heard a sound behind her and turned to see Jon. He was alone, just like she was and she couldn't help but give him a small smile. They were far off from Winterfell, enough to have the feeling that they were mostly alone. She liked him when he was alone, away from everyone, he seemed to lighten up, even smiled on occasion.

Jon walked up to her, she stared up into his dark eyes. A small smile tugged at his lips "Dani" he said softly. Daenerys felt a warm glow in her chest when he said that. She still did not know what their relationship was to one another, and how it would play out in the days yet to come, but she took solace in the fact that right here at this moment, she could feel happy and safe, even if it was for only a moment.

He wasted no time in closing the distance between them and kissed her. At first, she couldn't feel much, the snow and cold and numbed her lips, but after a few moments, the warmth began to radiate from him and spread to her. She felt her stomach lift and her heart beat faster. The way his hands came up to stroke both her cheeks as he held her face comforted her. 

His kisses were soft and warm, he did not demand or force them, he merely planted them and waited for them to grow. She kissed back and buried her fingers in the fur of his cloak. They parted for what seemed like too soon to Daenerys, she longed to be with Jon again like they had been on her ship, but now was not the time for that.

She turned and they walked up to Rheagal and Drogon, it was only a few days ago they had flown the dragons together, it being Jon's first Daenerys was surprised at how well it had gone. Both dragons lay huddled next to each other in the snow, their food, a deer each remained untouched which was odd. In fact, both looked rather lethargic and not at all as they had been in the morning. 

"Are they alright?" Jon asked Daenerys shook her head Drogon called out sluggishly to her. Both came up to her and greeted her. Their scales seemed duller could that be? Daenerys began to worry, Viserys had never told her of anything like this. Daenerys turned to Jon "It is nothing...the cold is not agreeing with them I think."

Jon furrowed his brows as Rheagal came up to him nudging Jon for attention. Daenerys thought back to SIgligon and Korb, had they done something to the dragons? Daenerys thought back to the test, but realized Sigligon had not done or fed anything to the dragons, so what could it be? A voice inside her head brought a thought to her head  _'Maybe Sigligon might know what is wrong.'_

This thought surprised her, she had not wanted to think on those two just yet, but maybe they could provide an answer. Daenerys glanced to the deer and back to Drogon, Drogon as if reading her mind turned and sniffed the deer but shook his head, instead he buried himself into the snow. Daenerys frowned and turned to Jon "I need to consult someone." Jon nodded but before she could turn to leave his hand snapped out and grabbed her hand, their eyes met for a few seconds.

"Your Grace" he replied softly, his thumb rubbing her hand affectionately. Daenerys smiled to him "Your Grace" she replied back bidding him farewell. She turned and made her long walk back into the keep, her mind racing with thoughts of how to help her children, and if Sigligon had answers for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for making it a little bit of a songfic but I have been listening to Sea shanties for the past two days and it's decided to come out in the writing of this fanfic.
> 
> Also, I decided to change a few of the military plans because GOSH DARNIT IT WAS TERRIBLE IN THE SHOW. Now I do not claim to be a four-star general but I feel a few of my changes were made smartly.
> 
> Also, a little Jon/Day fluff is always good yeah?


	26. Chapter 26 -This is War-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, here is the next chapter!

_Korb Hills_

Korb sat next to the fire, it felt so lonesome without Sigligon. He thought back to her escape, how heart-pounding it was to watch her climb down the tower wall, and then when she was on the ground, watching her hide and attempt to cover her identity. Sigligon was smart to dress up the way she did, Korb could barely recognize her. She disappeared then, blending in with the rest of the crowd. Korb was conflicted on how he felt then, on one hand, he knew she would be safe, on the other hand, he wasn't there to make sure. 

Korb sighed for possibly the thousandth time, he glanced to the window, he had covered it with a blanket tying it in place with the rope Sigligon had made. The bed was cast in shadows and even to his eye, it looked as if someone was sleeping. Every so often he would go and rearrange the shape of the form underneath to help with the lie. He softly hummed 'Leave her Johnny, leave her' as he contemplated on what to do next. They would obviously be found out, it was only a matter of time, so he mused on what he would say when it would happen.

A few hours later he heard a commotion outside the room. His heart began to beat faster. Glancing to the bed and about the room he noticed the entire room was beginning to be encased in shadows. It was getting darker now, Korb wondered how far Sigligon had gone, did she make it? Was she okay? But he was not allowed to think further a voice from the door called out, it was the Queen! Hurridly Korb rose from his chair and to the door, he could see Daenerys small figure through the narrow window of the door. Her eyes glanced up to him "I would like to speak to Sigligon." Korb's stomach did a backflip and a cold shiver went down his spine. He coughed and cleared his throat, bidding for time to think.

"She is asleep at the moment" he whispered, "Could she speak to you in the morning?" Daenerys frowned at this "I was hoping to ask a question." Korb stared blankly at Daenerys "I could ask her for you, she is a very grumpy person when she first wakes up." Daenerys found humor in this and nodded "Very well, I wanted to ask her about dragons...both Rheagal and Drogon are not eating." Daenerys stated. Korb furrowed his brow. "Not eating?" he asked her, Daenerys nodded. Korb went through his knowledge of dragon ailments.

"Are they Lathergic?" he asked Daenerys nodded.

"Scales pale?" he inquired worriedly. Another nod from Daenerys.

Korb frowned "You have the beginning stages of Cold-scale, usually dragons can self regulate heat, but if they are left defenseless for long periods in cold environments without enough food they will begin to deteriorate." Daenerys eyed widened "Can it be fixed?" Korb could see the panic on her face, like a mother who had been told their child has a terrible illness. Korb nodded "It's in the beginning stages, just start a few small fires around them, perhaps get them into cover if you can, once they warm back up feed them as much as they like, dragons will burn more energy in the cold" he instructed her calmly.

Daenerys seemed to relax at his voice and guidance. Daenerys turned to a nearby Unsullied "start some fires around the dragons, I will have to figure out where we can put them behind cover later." Daenerys turned back to Korb "Thank-you Korb, seems like you are as well versed as your...sister?" Daenerys commented Korb shrugged "Well enough, Sigligon knows more than I, my talent has always been fighting." Daenerys nodded "I must go attend my dragons, I will let you know if they recover." Daenerys turned and left then, Korb stayed at the door and he met the eyes of the tall Knight that stood by Daenerys. He nodded his head in greetings and Korb nodded his, they disappeared down the stairs and the window slot was closed, Korb turned and returned to the fire his limbs shaking from anxiety. He glanced once more to the window  _'hurry up Sigi'_ he thought to himself.

_Sigligon Dilis_

The mare cantered down the road, her hooves thudding into the mud and ice sending large chunks of it flying into the air around them as the mare picked her way down the road. It was almost sundown now, yellow bleeding into purple and blue streaked across the sky reminding Siglgion of an artist's painting, somber and cold mixing with hope and heat. Sigligon moved with the mare, making sure to make herself as light as a load on the mare as possible, she sat back straight her hips in motion guiding the mare and keeping it going. 

At times she would slow it down to a trot or even a walk if needed, but the mare seemed to have stamina and loved to run so Sigligon allowed the mare her head. So down the road she flew, Sigligon scanning the treeline for a familiar sigil carved into the bark, it was one Korb had placed before they made it unto the main road. It was a falcon pointing to the direction of their dragons. She should be close, some of the trees looked familiar, but then again most of the trees had the same look, barren white birch trees, their bark peeling off. Lonesome and tall pines standing proud their evergreen branches providing shelter for animals. 

The mare was snorting now, Sigligon snapped her attention to the mare and eased her into a walk, it took several attempts but the mare finally consented. Sigligon walked her slowly scanning the trees on her right, the large oak who's trunk was split was very familiar, she was close now she could feel it. She squinted now, the light was starting to fade, frantically she studied each tree,  _'too small, it wasn't a pine tree, it was small and had a hole in the trunk....where is it!'_ Sigligon groaned in frustration, "How can I misplace a- There you are!" She cried out happily, the tree stood next to a slight gap, Sigligon could just faintly see the wagon tracks from when they brought the wagon through.

The mare's ears were pointed forward as Sigligon guided her down the slight embankment of the ditch and to the tree. Sigligon slid off the mare and led her by her reigns up through the snow, her feet crunching through the harder top layer. Sigligon brought her hand up and felt the bark of the tree where Korb's mark was. The bark was rough and cold she traced the line of the wing before staring down the path. She turned back to the mare, realizing she would not be able to lead it through the woods, it would only slow her down. 

She returned with the mare back to the road and removed the bit and bridle. She gave the horse scratches up near her eyes and rubbed her ears "Thank-you" she whispered to the mare before stepping away. The mare began to trot down the road, occasionally stopping and sniffing before continuing. Sigligon was sad to watch her go but knew the mare was smart and would know where to return to, she would remember the food and water and find her way home. Sigligon turned and began to traverse the path down to where the dragons slept. 

The path wasn't too bad, a few small ice patches here and there but it was relatively clear from snow thanks to the trees above catching the most of it. The walk was quiet it was eerily quiet, it unnerved her so she pushed ahead faster. It was only a short while later she happened upon the clearing where the dragons lie sleeping still. The fire was still burning to give off a small amount of heat. Sigligon paused for a moment and smiled, their massive forms all entangled in one another, like a nest of kittens huddled against each other while they nursed.

She could hear the great rumbling snores from Old One and saw little Realla curled up close to Kastamere. Meledarys slept sprawled his one wing flung over Old One's side while the other lay flat on the ground. Sigligon shook her head and smirked before approaching them. She whistled under her breath softly, delicate breathy notes like a young hatchling would call out. Old One stirred slightly in her sleep, her eyes twitching as she slept on, Sigligon always wondered if dragons dreamt like her and other animals. 

She came to a stop next to the fire and called out gentle and clear to Old One "Are you awake?" she questioned. Slowly Old One's eyes opened, they were hazy at first, heavy in her sleepiness. Sigligon smirked and approached, she never had fear of Old One, she trusted the large dragon easily. Sigligon stood next to Old One's snout, she seemed to be dwarfed by its size, she put a handout and rested it on Old One's nostril. She leaned to the side and met Old One's eye. "Should we wake up the children and get moving?"

Old One yawned, her yawn so strong Sigligon had to brace against the onslaught of heated air that came from Old One's giant mouth. She could see the multiple rows of ancient teeth and the long thin tongue. Old One shook her head, an action that caused Mele's wing to slip off her back. Mele squawked awake, his eyes were half-open as he squinted in Sigligon's direction. Sigligon chuckled "You never like being awoken do you?" Mele grumbled in reply as if understanding her question. He plopped his head on the ground and covered his snout with his wing in an attempt to go back to sleep. 

Sigligon rolled her eyes, Old One shifted in her spot and slowly pushed herself up off the ground sluggishly. This action awoke both Kasta and Rhealla who began to churr and talk to one another in quick loud chirps. Sigligon walked over to them, both Kasta and Rhealla instantly shifted forward and pressed their noses gently against Sigligon's outstretched hands. Kasta purred as Sigligon scratched his nose. The blue and young white dragon was always the friendliest. Sigligon checked them all over, the Talia leaf seemed to mostly be wearing off, they might be a little sluggish at first but eventually, they should be back to their normal selves.

Sigligon went to Mele and stood next to his uncovered eye. She waited, she knew he was not asleep, only pretending. "Mele," she said softly. The dragon cracked his open slightly she chuckled at his antics. "You have slept for long enough, I need you all to be strong for me, we must go Korb and our Queen needs us." Mele slid his wing from his snout and opened his eyes fully. He tilted his head for a few seconds before huffing and standing up shaking the snow from his hide. Sigligon stepped forward and gave him several pats and scratched before turning to Old One "shall we go hunt first?" she asked the old dragon.

Old One blinked twice before she lowered her neck, Sigligon grabbed onto the straps of the saddle that they had kept on the dragons. Easily climbing her way up to seat herself on Old One's back she sighed. To ride a dragon was the greatest feeling in the world. Without a word Old One lurched forward before launching her massive frame into the sky, she toppled a few trees with the strength from her wingbeats as she steadily pulled herself higher and higher into the sky. Sigligon could see the distant fires of Winterfell burning, like small candles in the night, luckily the moon was shining full and bright while only the last remnants of the suns rays were fading drastically.

Sigligon squinted and turned Old One away from Winterfell deciding to head west for a little bit at least until they found some food, the dragons should be fed first before she flew them to Winterfell. As she rode on Old One's back with the three younger dragons in tow she put her mind to Korb and hoped that he was okay.

_Korb Hills_

Korb was not okay. He was lying flat on his back arms above him in surrender as two Unsullied pointed their spears at his neck. Daenerys Targaryen, his Queen stood over him, her eyes blazing wildly as she held one of the many blankets that were used to fake Sigligon's sleeping form. The Queen had come back later that evening to thank them, Korb's instruction had worked and now both dragons were eating. The Queen wanted to personally thank Sigligon. Despite Korb's protests, the Queen was adamant. Korb gave up and decided to go and lie on his back in surrender, there was nothing else he could think of doing.

Daenerys, of course, came in confused, her Unsullied guards and the bear knight in tow. They went straight to the bed, where the bear Knight, removed 'Sigligon's' blanket only to discover their fraud. The window was revealed next, an icy wind was blowing through the tower now as Danerys glared daggers down at him. "Where is she?" Daenerys demanded Korb licked his lips "...gone, your Grace." Daenerys's lip curled slightly "I can  _SEE_ that for myself...WHERE. DID. SHE. GO."  Daenerys growled lowly punctuating her question.

Korb felt the tip of one of the spears dig in a little on his neck. His heart was hammering in his chest,  _'Was it supposed to be this loud?'_ he thought to himself. "A few miles south your Grace, she had matters to attend to...she will return." He didn't know if it was the delivery of his answer or the answer itself that caused Daenerys to scoff. Daenerys closed her eyes for a few seconds. "You are on the ground with spears at your neck, and you still play word games," she commented dryly. Korb shrugged, an action that caused the spear to push deeper, he could feel a small river of blood begin to pour from the scratch. 

"I'm not playing word games, I am telling you the-" "Telling me the truth, and why should I believe a word you say?" Daenerys snapped at him. Korb squinted his eyes up to match hers. She had changed into a white gown now, and her hair was pulled back in intricate braids. "Because... so far I have been right about everything I have told you." Daenerys paused and turned her head to the bear Knight, they shared a look to one another. "That may be but my trust in you is waning thin, why should I keep you alive, all you do is hide secrets from me." Korb was exasperated now, she had a point, quite literally as he felt the cold blade of the spear at his neck.

"Because" he started "If you do kill me, which is, of course, your right...Sigligon will be extremely upset, and I don't think ever he family vows could save you." Daenerys quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you said she was loyal," Daenerys said flatly. Korb grimaced "well...yes, but not many people will remain loyal to a Queen that kills their family...I mean...look around you, the entire North is still in rebellion years after Ned Stark was killed." Daenerys pursed her lips at this. "True...but I did not kill Ned Stark," she answered. Korb swallowed, by the gods his mouth was so dry.

"No, you didn't, but if you did kill me, Sigligon would stop at nothing to avenge me," Korb answered. Daenerys scoffed "She is one woman, I have an army and two dragons, more if I hatch the eggs you have provided." Korb was silent for a moment, he consented to the fact that he would die not to long after the next words leave his lips. "She may not have an army, but she has more dragons." Korb's heart skipped a beat, his entire being was strung tight like a bow. Daenerys face betrayed no emotion. Until of course she giggled "You two have to be daft, I am the only one in the world with-" "Tempimere is the daughter of Belerion the Black, she has scales of the whitest of snow, her eyes are silver with hints of blue...her head is the size of a carriage and horses combined."

Silence now as Korb continued finding strength in his voice. "Kastamere is my favorite, he is blue and green and is the fastest of them all, he's always curious and rather friendly." Korb paused still looking into Daenerys eyes looking for some emotion. "Meledarys is a bright red with gold, he is stoic and proud and loves Sigligon the most, he's also incredibly strong." Korb took one last breath "Then finally Rhealla...named after your mother, she is the smallest one but still quite large, she is white with hints of lavender...she is calm and quiet acts more like a puppy than a dragon."

Daenerys stared at him, doubt was plain on her face. Korb did not care. "Sigligon has four dragons, all of them are larger and stronger than yours, you kill me you lose not only her loyalty but also those four dragons, let me live and she will bring them to you and pledge them to your cause." Daenerys frowned contemplating his words. "You have nothing to lose by keeping me alive, and everything to gain," he added desperately. Daenerys quirked her head in confusion. She was silent for a long while pondering over his words. 

"I have never been more confused in my life until this day until I met you and Sigligon." Korb bit his lip as he listened to her speak. "You have moments of unparalleled intelligence, but then you have moments of utter madness." Daenerys walked over to the broken window and stared out, the wind tugged at her loose strands of hair. "How did you even break the window with no alarm?" she mused softly to herself. Korb cleared his throat "We covered it with a blanket and broke out the panes with a part of the chair, Sigligon made rope from strips of the blanket and climbed down."

A voice from the other side of the room spoke out "Smart" Korb didn't need to look to know it was Tyrion. Tyrion stepped into Korb's view. "Your Grace, they have searched the grounds but no one has spotted her, nor did anyone notice her leaving." Daenerys turned back to Tyrion a look of disappointment on her face "I see." was all she replied. Korb spoke up again "She outfitted herself with a helm, and Stark breastplate to sneak out if I were to guess she probably stole a horse to leave." Tyrion glanced down to Korb, Korb smiled half-heartedly when their eyes met "Lord Tyrion" he greeted pleasantly ignoring the situation he was in.

Tyrion fought back a smile but Korb could see Tyrion's eyes light up in amusement. "Do you want to know why Sigligon left?" Daenerys stated catching Tyrion's attention. Tyrion turned to his Queen. Daenerys then chimed out "Apparently, Sigligon left because she has dragons to take care of...four of them, and if Korb is to be believed they are much larger and stronger then my own, what do you think of that Tyrion?" Tyrion frowned and turned to Korb. "Four dragons?" he asked confused. Korb at this moment just shrugged "Yes, well I know you don't believe me-" "Tempimere...Mele...Darys? Kasta...mere...and Rhealla yes?" Shock fell over Daenerys face "How...how did you?" 

Tyrion turned to someone just out of Korb's vision. "While searching I decided to go back into their wagon...I found this book called the-" Korb knew exactly which one Tyrion was about to say,  _'The Book of Dragon Profiles, a history of all Targaryen Dragons born to the Targaryen's'_ Korb said the name before Tyrion could finish. A pause. Daenerys glanced between both of them. "Is this a ruse? A joke?" she asked sternly. It was clear Daenerys was near her wit's end with everything. "No" Tyrion answered her and showed her the book.

It was an old thing, nearly a foot tall in length and two inches thick, all Targaryen dragons, from the moment they hatched to the day they died were recorded, all their life event...battles they fought, people they killed, wars they partook in were recorded as well. "I skimmed through this book, all the dragons that we in Westeros were told about...and more, there are nearly two chapters to Balerion the Black Dread, the accounts of all the battles of Craxes, how the dragons died...all of it is here, and all of it is knowledge that the people of Westeros know"

Daenerys took the book and paged through it, mild interest taking over. Gently Tyrion continued. "In the book, near the very end there four dragons, one speaks of a large white dragon, hatched just before the events of the Dance of Dragons...there is no death date on that dragon...next was a tan male dragon..hatched  _after_ the events of the Dance of Dragons...he lived only six years before he passed..." Korb nodded there was one other dragon that Sigligon's family managed to hatch in secret, this male joined Tempimere and together they produced many clutches of eggs...before the male died of an infection.

Tyrion was pointing to pages in the book Daenerys scrutinizing them beneath Tyrion's finger. "Then look here...these were hatched just before you were born...three eggs, a red, a blue and a white...on the next pages you will see the entries for them" Daenerys glanced at the book, then slowly her eyes wandered up to Korbs, then they would drift back down to the pages once more. Tyrion stepped back and away from Daenerys he took a large breath then spoke: "I myself, would like to believe in their tales...all evidence supports it...do I have my doubts yes...but a part of me believes it to be." Tyrion's back was turned to Korb so he could not see Tyrion's facial expression but from the sound of his voice, it felt like he was begging the Queen to see reason.

Korb's heart swelled Daenerys eyes were filled in reflection. She closed the book, "I see" was all she said. She stood and looked down at Korb frowning as she contemplated what to do with him. "You are right, I have nothing to lose if I kill you...therefore I will let you live." With a motion, both Unsullied pulled their spears from his neck. Korb sighed relieved and clapped a hand to his neck to stop the bleeding.  "However, if by morning...Sigligon has not returned, I will execute you is that understood?" Korb gulped and nodded.

She then turned to Tyrion "As for my hand, if it comes to be that this was all false I will have you removed from your station for being so woefully stupid to believe such an outlandish lie." Tyrion bowed his head as with a sweep of her skirts Daenerys was gone. The bear Knight and Tyrion stayed behind but the Unsullied left with Daenerys. "I should thank-you, but I guess I should also apologize?" Korb stated as he stood to adjust his clothes. Tyrion smirked, "I suppose your right, but it is slightly my fault, I have been known to stick my neck out in matters that I shouldn't..." Tyrion glanced up to Korb. 

Tyrion studied him levelly. "I believe you though...as insane as it is, I believe you...I watched your face during the test, I have seen how people react to our Queen's...children, you did not act surprised nor afraid when you saw them...you acted as if you were viewing livestock." There was a pause as Tyrion carried on squinting at Korb "I thought to myself at first, that you were a madman...but" Tyrion stepped closer "I saw the books in your collection, I pondered on all you have told me and...the evidence is there, who would risk their lives to escape from a Queen they very obviously adore? Why would someone do that?" Korb shrugged unsure if Tyrion wanted an answer.

"Because they have something of greater importance, I wondered what that could be, that's when..." Tyrion motioned towards the book. Tyrion turned to the Knight behind him, the tall grizzled warrior with piercing blue eyes. "Ser Jorah looked at your sword...Valyrian steel, not something one just picks up on the street." Korb glanced to Ser Jorah, the Knight had a name now. " _DragonsFang_ " he stated "I don't know the real name it had, Jovern possessed the blade before me, it has been in House Dilis family for generations, given to us by-" "By the Targaryen's yes, only the loyalist of families would ever be gifted a blade so fine." Tyrion interrupted.

Korb nodded "You faced spears in your face rather calmly," Ser Jorah said his voice gravely. Korb glanced to Ser Jorah and shrugged "If I must give my life so that Sigligon can go free, so be it, I live to serve and protect." Tyrion squinted his eyes "But you pleaded for your life?" Korb nodded "I did, only because I knew if Sigligon found out I was dead...she would do terrible things in her grief, things that I do not want to happen." Tyrion nodded understanding "You do not fear death, you only fear the repercussions of it then?" Korb nodded "Basically" he commented off handily shrugging and tilting his head.

Tyrion chuckled "I see, well then come Ser Jorah let us leave the lad he has much to think about." Ser Jorah nodded to Korb, Korb nodded back. The two men left Korb then, and Korb stood there in the aftermath. The wind howled through the room and sent shivers down his spine, the fire behind him flicker threatening to go out from the winter air. "Well, at least I'm still living." He commented dryly to the empty room.

_Jon Snow_

Jon stood on the battlements of Winterfell staring out into the approaching darkness. Shadows were being cast by the setting sun, they stretched out across the land space looking like icy fingers threatening to choke out all life before them. Jon looked over to Sam, his oldest and truest friend. He honestly had not thought much the first time he saw the portly man.

He saw a weak and bumbling person who could barely hold a sword right. But Sam had surprised Jon every step of the way, he was smart, thoughtful and loyal Jon could not ask for no better friend. Although Sam would not be a famed fighter he was more courageous than any he saw. A brave warrior was one who did not know what the odds were and still fought, a courageous man was one who knew the odds and still went to battle.

In a way, all of them owed what they knew about killing Whights was thanks to Sam. Sam had been the one to use Dragonglass against one for the first time int what could be thousands of years. He heard a whine from next to him bringing Jon out of his thoughts. He glanced down and placed a hand on Ghosts head. The white direwolf nudged his leg and whined anxiously.

Jon heard a cry from one of the dragons, he glanced over to where both sat, they had moved closer to Winterfell and were just outside the walls now. Jon frowned as he recalled the conversation he, Sam and Bran had only a few hours earlier.  _'It can't be...Aegon Targaryen...that cannot be my true name...I am a Snow, I am from the North...my father was Eddard Stark, not Rheagar Targaryen...'_ and yet Bran took his hand and showed him, using his strange powers, an act that nearly made Jon faint from the sudden rush as he was taken away into the past, flicking about from one timeline to the next watching as two strangers who apparently were his parents live and die in front of him.

He was the heir to the Iron throne, not only that he was the last male heir to the Targaryen dynasty...but the worst of it all was...Daenerys was his kin, his aunt to be specific if he could figure the family tree right...it was hard with Targaryen's...but the worst part was the fact that also meant his grandfather was the Mad King, and he was now related to the man responsible for inconceivable crimes.

Jon stared at Rheagal, the dragon seemed to gaze up at him, their eyes matching even from across the distance. A shiver went down his spine, the dragon somehow knew...both of them knew...he had no idea how they could. Jon contemplated his birthright for a long while, it helped focus his mind away from the cold, as the night lingered on he could feel the windchill drop, his breath came in a burst of thick fog and he had long lost feeling in his face no matter how many times he rubbed it with his hands.

They heard the army of the dead long before they first saw them. The sound of clattering bones against snow and ice, the long moanful wails as the wind whistled through their exposed ribcages and bones. Rotting and falling apart they still somehow managed to walk and move. Jon squinted his eyes and studied their hulking mass of an army.

Thousands upon thousands, unnumerable to count. Jon scanned the skies for Viserion but did not see an undead dragon. Jon turned to Ser Davos "You have the battlements, I will be in the sky on Rheagal." Ser Davos gave him a firm nod. Jon turned to Sam than to Edd. Edd gave him half-hearted smile "Whoever is left alive...burn the dead." 

Jon gave him a nod then reached out to grip his arm as a means to say goodbye. Wordlessly they clasped arms, Jon felt a heavy feeling in his heart, he knew if somehow they survived till morning, that there would be people he knew and loved would no longer be in the world. He gave Sam a strong pat on the shoulder, Sam gave him the smallest of grins "Good luck" he quipped.

Jon grinned at this "Watch over Ghost, can't take a direwolf up on a dragon." Sam nodded and gripped the Dragonglass dagger he held tightly. Jon glanced down to Ghost, he gave the loyal direwolf one last scratch on the ears before turning and descending the steps to go to Rheagal. As he went he gave men on the walls firm and serious looks, every so often clapping them on their shoulders, they needed faith and reassurance that this could be won. 

As Jon stared out at their armies in the front lines, he felt as if they were just a tiny island of hope, lost in a sea of crushing death. He met with Daenerys, she gave him a firm and steady look. He had not told her of what Sam and Bran had told him, she had too much on her plate right now and he decided against it. He made sure to swear Bran and Sam to secrecy for now.

Jon and Daenerys walked out together towards the waiting dragons. When both had mounted their dragon they waited, Jon, stroking Rheagal's scales absently as he surveyed the scene before him. The battle was lit by fire and moonlight. Winterfell stood alone against a black tide of death and destruction, all that he had done the past years was build-up to this, this was the true war, the real war...this would be the war to end all wars.

There in the coming darkness Jon Snow, the King in the North and the Bastard of Winterfell sat outside the home of his ancestors, ready to defend it. A calm began to wash over him, and a sudden urge took over him, without any thought he began to recite the oath he had taken so very long ago.

 _" _Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come_ " _His oath carried out into the night and Jon felt the air sip even colder.

At last, the first movement came from the enemy lines as the first wave of undead broke out in the lumbering unhuman charge. Jon was half expecting them to charge all at once in a massive horde, but the Night King was smarter then that, he had been a man once if Bran was to be believed, a thousand or so year old man but a man, one that had a military mind.

The wave crashed against the first of three main trenches, the first trench was ten feet wide and ten feet deep, it was lined with half-buried tree trunks covered in Dragonglass, Jon could see the first wave splinter and clash against this first trench, very few made it past, the ones that did covered ground slowly missing limbs as they ran screaming towards the next trench.

The next trench was a little more intricate and took a lot of brainstorming to do. It was about fifteen feet wide, but only 6 or so feet deep. Instead of logs or palisades, the top of the trench was lined with chains, chains that crisscrossed like nets over the entire length and width, chains that also were coated in obsidian, with random blades of Dragonglass sticking here and there. The bottom of the trench had been covered in a mixture of logs, oil, and fat, once lit it should burn hot and bright.

The idea was the Undead would fall through the holes of the chains and die in the fires. It was wide enough where it was believed most undead would be unable to jump across. The first wave of possibly 1000 or so undead did not make it past trench two. The waves were beginning to move faster and broke away from the bulk of the main army at an increasing pace. 

 The Night King had tested their defenses and was now pushing to see how well they would hold out. Surprising to Jon the two trenches held for a long while, he saw a few small splinter cells of Undead try to move out and around Winterfell to try and flank them but the Dothraki with their strange curved swords lit with fire by using animal fat kept the undead from advancing to far.

The Knights of vale and all other mounted forces on the left had decorated their horses with shards of Dragonglass, and all of them held Dragonglass lances and spears, they two fought against a few tides of Undead. Jon could hear the din of battle from where he sat, he wished to fly Rheagal and go help his forced, but knew he had to stay and wait for the Night King.

Jon glanced over Daenerys who sat cold and calm on Drogon, her face calm and still. Jon wanted to call out to her, tell her that they could do this, but he knew that she would not believe him nor was that the correct thing to say in a time like this. Instead, Jon called out to her and said: "Thank-you Dani, for everything."

Daenerys turned to meet his gaze, for a brief moment all else faded away from the world and it was just he and her on the same plane of existence greeting one another. She gave him a small fading smile "It was nice to have met you, Jon Snow." She replied. Both of them returned to surveying the battle before them, it was a wordless agreement, both understanding what each other meant to say but did not wish to say the words out loud  _'If I die, I am glad to have known you'_.

The horrific screams of the undead were getting closer now. Jon felt himself grimace as he began to feel on edge. It was inevitable, even the smartest of tacticians could not hold off these many forces. It had always been a matter of time before the numbers would overwhelm the trenches, filling them with the dust and bones of the fallen undead, enough to where it could provide a safe path across to the next and the final trench.

The final trench was a tall wall of oak logs standing eight feet in height covered in Dragonglass, at the base of the logs was a long narrow trench filled with oil for fire. Jon could hear the command of Davos for the final trench to be lit. A burst of bright light joined in with the other fires helping to light the battlefield.

In the distance, Jon could see Dothraki skirmishing with the undead, their piercing war screams filling the night. He heard the men on the battlements crying out to ready their arrows. The sounds of the Infantry bracing themselves for impact, it was only a matter of time. Then a sound shrill and piercing caught his attention, from above descending out of the clouded darkness a pale white dragon with the blueish hint of flames frothing from its mouth.

It glided effortlessly it seemed across the night sky. On it's back Jon could see the Night King, his icy blue form contrasted against the darkness of the night sky. It was eerie how he moved, unblinking and slow, methodical. He floated down on Viserion, the undead dragon who's wings were tattered with countless holes and tears and who's body was steadily decomposing.

Jon briefly wondered if the dragon would be able to fly if it lost more of its wing webbing. Jon could hear both Drogon and Rheagal react to Viserion. Jon put a hand to Rheagal's neck. "Not yet," he said out loud, hoping the dragon could understand him. Rheagal grumbled lowly but obeyed. Daenerys looked grief-stricken, to see her child return as this monstrosity must hurt her greatly.

Viserion dropped down descending rapidly towards the ground. Both Jon and Daenerys gritted their teeth as they watched as Viserion roared a line of bright blue and white flames over the battlefield, he cut a straight line through the first trench, taking out a good fifty to a hundred feet of trench, this continued to the next and finally to the last trench.

Viserion effectively tore a path through the three trenches so that the undead army could push through and get to Winterfell. Jon did note that because of a large hole on the side of Viserion's neck his flames did not grow or stretch out as far as Drogon or Rheagal's flames. Daenerys launched Drogon into the sky. Jon gritted his teeth and did the same. 

The icy wind tore and his clothes he felt as if his face had been covered by a sheet of ice. It was so blasted cold in the sky on dragon back. He wondered briefly how Daenerys stayed warm. Jon ducked down closer to Rheagal's back when he realized the dragon's skin gave off a small aura of heat. He pressed himself closer, he found it easier to grip and stay on to Rheagal, the wind also was more streamlined and flowed off of Rheagal's neck and back frills, helping to shield Jon.

Jon looked up to Daenerys who flew on his right in the lead. Ahead of them was Viserion who was banking around to meet them in air. Jon could see the icy stare of the Night King. Fires of anger began to burn in Jons' veins. For far too long the Night King has been unmatched, reaching down and gripping Longclaw Jon thought to himself  _'It's time to end this, for once and for all.'_   Rheagal as if mirroring Jon's thoughts roared out in challenge as the two dragons reunited with their brother.

 


	27. Chapter 27 - The Long Night -

_Korb Hills_

Korb could hear the distant sounds of battle from his cell. If he squinted out his window he could almost see the fugitive movements beyond his line of sight. But to him, it was only shadows dancing. Korb cast his eyes up into the night sky, black clouds illuminated from above by the pale moon, the bottom of the sky was tinged yellow from the flames of the many fires burning outside the gates of Winterfell.

Smoke filled the air, carrying with it the metallic scent of blood. He could hear screams fill the air, distant and muffled but there was enough. Men and horse alike died terribly, their cries the last thing that remained of them, a final note puncturing the air, the sound of their death the last contribution to the world before it too faded, to be forgotten, one more body to be burned, another name to be eventually erased from all thought.

He frowned, "Where are you Sigi?" He asked out loud, trying desperately to scan the horizon for the familiar forms of their dragons. His heart sank, what if something did truly happen to her, what then? "I'll die" he replied to his own thought. Resolve filled him as he turned to the door, he was not dying, he did not care what Queen or King ruled him, he was the maker of his destiny and he would choose when he would die, and today was not that day.

He stretched then, quickly working blood flow into all his limbs, one needed to be limber when one was about to fight. He glanced around he didn't have much as a way of weapons but he had an idea and that was all he needed. 

_BrownFlea_

To stand guard while his comrades fought outside was a strange thing. He was Unsullied he was meant to fight, but instead, he stood with WhiteVulture staring off into space ahead of him. Usually, he would not care, he would do as his Queen commands, but this time it was different, the sounds he was hearing were more foreign to him than anything else he had heard in this land.

Suddenly a panicked voice came from inside the room they where guarding. A scream roared out sounding as if someone was being stabbed. "Help one of the fuckers is in here!" BrownFlea could hear the sound of clattering then the smashing of wood. Quickly he and WhiteVulture turned and opened the door, rushing into the room.

It was empty, no prisoner and no undead, confused BrownFlea looked to the window, had the prisoner managed to escape through that hole? He was much too large to fit but perhaps. A sudden sound of rock scraping alerted him to something. However by the time he turned to face the direction the noise was coming from it was too late, even in all his years of training, he could not turn himself around as fast or as effective as he wanted in such small space.

He felt the sudden impact of something hitting the back of his neck in a quick sharp strike, a tremor of pain went down his entire spine, followed by the feeling of floating as his mind seemed to separate itself from his body. Not able to move it on command, his nerves on fire sputtering out one by one like countless temple candles. Blackness began to fill in on the corners of his vision, the world was spinning and tilting dangerously and his last thought before his conscious faded away was  _'What had happened?'_

_Korb Hills_

Korb sighed slowly as he glanced over the still forms of the Unsullied before him. He brandished a wooden chair leg in one hand. He let it clatter to the ground in a dull thud. Korb glanced up to above the door where a lip of stone jutted out from the wall. It was only perhaps an inch and a half but it was just enough to let Korb balance on it while the two Unsullied entered.

"No one ever expects an attack from above," he said out loud. The men would be unconscious for a few minutes give or take, he did not strike them too hard, but he needed enough time to escape. Korb grabbed both of their spears and exited the room, closing the door behind him he shoved both spears lengthwise into the doors sliding bolt.

This would keep them in there for a while he thought. Quickly he made his way down the tower steps and rushed through the castle halls. Eerily quiet his footsteps echoed down the halls. Outside he could still hear the muffled din of fighting. His heart was racing a mile a minute as he picked his way to the nearest exit.

He saw no one and no one saw him which he was glad for. Korb finally made it to a door, he shouldered himself into it, the door nearly burst as his weight crashed against it. He shot out into the night like an arrow loosed wildly from a bow. Continuing to run he felt the cold pull at his face and limbs but he ignored all that for now. 

He spotted their wagon, still parked in the same place. Around him, he could see the beginnings of medical areas being set up. Already he could hear the moans and screams of injured men brought off the battlefield. For now, it seemed to Korb there was enough semblance of an order they had this luxury. No one paid him any mind, all were too busy with the wounded or the undead outside the walls.

Korb could now hear the hair raising screeches of the undead. He grimaced as he clenched his teeth. By the gods, they sounded hellish and terrible, and yet morbid curiosity now filled him, he couldn't wait to reach the battlements and see the undead, he wanted to know if all the conversations he had overheard in his tower were true.

But first, armor and a weapon were needed. Sprinting to his wagon he leaped his way over a few small obstacles before finally reaching the familiar home away from home. Clambering up the steps he tore into the wagon. Instantly, he felt a small respite being surrounded by all that was near and dear to him. For the briefest of seconds that he would allow himself he stood still and ground himself in the familiarity of it all.

This was followed by the furious jostling of armor from his stand and unto him. His fingers worked quickly and with deft movements, actions that took many years of practice and skill to get right. He could put his armor on blindfolded if needed, he had even gone as far as having Sigligon time him while he did so. He first disrobed all but his breeches and belt, he shivered in the cold as he quickly pulled on a full-length gambeson dyed red.

After that, he pulled on and began latching his metal cuirass in place enclosing around his torso. Instantly he felt trapped like a turtle. Armor would always restrict movement but he had learned to overcome it. Next came his culet, small strip plates of metal that were strung together then attached to the back of his cuirass to help defend himself against attack aimed towards his back.

He shrugged on a pair of pauldrons. Grimacing as he attempted to get the latches that hooked them to his cuirass.  _'One day I am going to get myself a bloody squire'_ He thought to himself. But realized that most likely would not happen, one had to be Noble to earn a squire. Finishing off armoring his arms he latched a pair of simple vambraces to his forearms.

He bent down with some grunting and strapped on a pair of greaves as well as a set of cuisses. Nearly fully armored Korb grabbed the last bit of garb that he needed picking up a pair of fingerless padded gloves he quickly jerked his hands into them before pulling on and clasping his cloak. Finally, he reached for his bow and quiver.

Shouldering both he reached out and grabbed Sigligon's bow and quiver as well, her's was thinner and taller than his, whereas he had a heavier draw to his shorter, thicker bow, she preferred being able to fire further and with more accuracy. He carried both bows and quivers out and began to jog his way up the steps unto the battlements.

The scene that lay before him was a garbled confusing mess, this was his first time seeing a way being fought in real life, whenever he had read about battles he always imagined organized chess pieces on a map, but this...this was entirely different. To his left stood a large mass of cavalry, armored and carrying pikes and spears he knew this to be the Knights of the Vale their emblem a bird flying into a half-moon on a blue field was painted on nearly all their shields and armor.

To his far right was a swarm of Dothraki, their strange curved blades set ablaze lit up the night as they clashed against the darkness they fought. In front of him, a sea of infantrymen, he could see banners for the Starks, Hornwood, Mormont, Karstrak, and Umber along with all the other houses of the North. In front of the Northmen was the Unsullied army, their numbers standing strong and proud readying their weapons.

The undead had reached the second trench now, they would run and crash into it before disappearing into an explosion of ice, bone fragments and dust. Korb was unnerved but fascinated by this enemy. Some of them were ages-old, no skin or hair remained only the stilted skeletons being animated while strange blue lights glowed in their gray decrepit skulls.

Then some looked only days old, could pass for human if not for their white frostbitten skin and deathly pale blue eyes. They moved in a strange disjointed and worrying way that made it uncomfortable to gaze at them for too long. The screams that tore out from their inhuman throats were grating and made Korb want to bury his head in the ground to stop the sound from reaching his ears.

it sent chills down his spine, freezing him in place, a sudden living statue who's faced was perpetually contorted in horror. The shadows just beyond the fire's lighted reach swirled and swayed,  _'THAT IS THE ENEMY ARMY?'_ Korb caught himself from falling forward. His stomach dropped and he felt the dreaded sensation of saliva filling his mouth and coating his throat.

It was dizzying, to imagine so many, he almost felt like turning and giving up. There was no way to fight all these and win, how could they? Korb closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose, attempting to stop the bile that was fighting its way up to his throat. He shook his head and forced his hands to close as tight as they could.

The strain on his muscles was all the distraction he needed to regain control of his wild emotions. He had to not think, only act and fight. He steeled his gaze ahead and focused on the things he could do. The undead were just starting to make their way past the second trench, he stepped forward in line next to several dozen other archers on the wall. 

The man next to him stood trembling, doing his best to knock an arrow to his bow. The next man down from there was holding his bow completely wrong, most of them were in fact. Korb's heart sank, these men were most likely conscripted, given armor and an easy weapon to help defend Winterfell to fight against the dead... _'They are probably all farmers'_ Korb thought to himself.

Korb glanced down the line to his right, men formed and lined up along all edges of the battlement walls. A set of stairs was further down the way leading up unto the tops of one of the several towers that were part of Winterfell's defenses. Korb cleared his throat and spoke to the man next to him. "Easy there, take a calm breath and just think about what you have to do to fire that thing, wouldn't want you hitting one of our men." 

The man next to him snapped his head to Korb, his eyes wide with fear. But a quick stuttered nod was Korb's reply as the man fumbled with the bow and arrow once more, finally knocking the arrow in place. Korb nodded then moved down to the next man who held the bow with his entire fist on the string holding the arrow, he quickly showed the man to hold the arrow notch with the knuckled of his pointer and index.

Korb spoke quickly, but calmly. They were safe from the dead for now and he was using what precious moments they had to make these men better warriors. Finally, the call went out for archers to draw and aim. Korb could already see the trajectories of half of the men in front of him. All of them did not angle them up far enough for the distance they need.

As fast as he could he called for the attention of the group he was with. Interestingly enough the fifty or so men placed in this section of the wall had no leader for calling orders, they only listened to the ones on the other parts of the wall. Korb being the only one with any bow knowledge took it on himself to take control of the situation, least their forces be taken out by the friendly fire.

"Men to me" He called out sternly, the inexperienced archers turned their eyes to him. Korb stood and said, "Watch and copy." He planted his left leg forward pointing his toe into the direction he was shooting, quickly he positioned himself into a closed stance. Next, he knocked his arrow with quick ease, before bringing the bow and arrow up, without leaning forward or backward and making sure to keep his back straight he set his bow.

Tilting back slowly ina fluid motion he did not draw the bow until he was in the angle that he wanted. Nearly pointing his arrow straight into the sky he paused "This is set four!" he called out. He then drew back the arrow, he felt the gentle strain of his muscles as they brought the arrow back towards his cheek, the fletching just grazing his skin. 

Keeping the tension the same within the bow he waited until all the men had copied him. No doubt some of them would have the wrong footwork and some of them were still not doing it right, but at least they were all pointed in the same direction. Then when the call came out to release, Korb did so letting the arrow fly by making sure to not let his hand slip forward even an inch, he simply just let the arrow slip from his fingers.

Korb lowered his bow and grabbed an arrow from the container in front of him. He knocked it and went down the line, the men were knocking their arrows and bringing them back into the position they had just seen Korb do. Korb adjusted a few of the men but did so sparingly because in the middle of battle was not the time to be learning how to shoot an arrow.

Volley after volley the men fired into the growing crowd of undead clambering just beyond the third and final trench. So far none had breached, but Korb knew it was only a matter of time, the fields in between each layer of the trench were beginning to fill up with more and more undead. Their rotting sickly bodies staggering like injured beasts as they forced their way towards them.

Their screaming had somehow become a constant note, it was ever hovering in Korb's ears threatening to drown out his thoughts. Korb kept watching over his newfound post. Helping the archers and guiding them as well as joining in with each volley, sometimes he would fire at will, just get a few expert shots off before returning in with the rest.

He wasn't sure how long he was on that battlement with those archers, but eventually he like nearly everyone else heard the piercing shriek fill the cold night air. Korb looked up, he knew all too well what creature could make that noise. He had a small glimmer of hope, perhaps it was Sigligon? But his hopes were crushed when from out of the invading darkness a creature of unearthly white glided from out of the darkened clouds.

With strange ease, the dragon descended closer. Another scream from its lungs ignited a bright blue flame, a flame that spewed from the dragon's mouth in a wild display. It was then Korb saw the dragons rider, the blue flames flickering off the dark form. The skin of Ice, eyes of crystal blue glowing in the darkness the same ones that matched dragon he rode, ethereal and haunting. The dragons flesh hung in decaying patches of skin and scales, porous holes of rotting muscle and graying bones while shredded and mattered wings held the dragon aloft in the air. 

Korb stared in disgust, to see a beautiful and powerful creature reduced to a macabre display. The rider was unnervingly still and calm, like a statue he surveyed the scene before him. Wordlessly and with only a single motion from his arm the dragon tore down from the sky leaving a trail of destruction in its wake as it's blue flames carved a trail through all three trenches.

Korb flinched and ducked down as the dragon soared nearer. For a few moments he thought the fire's spray would continue onto Winterfell's walls, but instead, the dragon turned and fled back towards the undead army. Korb saw a flicker of movement from his left, Daenerys' two dragons, Drogon and Rheagal launched themselves into the night, roaring in a challenge at what Korb could only assume was once Viserion. 

Korb stared down at the destruction, there was effectively now a giant hole punched through all three trenches, giving a clear path to the undead. The undead charged forward gaining momentum. The Unsullied braced themselves their spears at the ready shields up. Korb quickly ordered 'his men' to start firing as many volleys as they could into the thick of the undead charge.

In this charge, it was not only men but giants as well, great hulking forms that could kill several men at a time with a single massive swing of their clubs. Two giants, one almost a full skeleton, the other missing half its face, swung wildly down into the Unsullied breaking their formation. They roared and stomped on the ground shaking it when they did so.

Korb leapt up and stood on the wall proper, then drew his bow, aiming for the closer giants head. They moved in simple motions a slight side to side the very same motion as a farmer afield with his scythe. Only this was not crops being harvested, it was blood and flesh. The lucky Unsullied were killed instantly, the blows from the giants hitting their heads and crushing them like eggs. Korb could hear the pop of their skulls as blood and brain matter squelched from within, the screams cut blessedly short. The unlucky ones were the men struck in the chest and torso, their ribcages crushed, organs pulverized, some of them torn clean in two, entrails leaking out of them like stuffing from a bird on a feast table.

Korb tracked the giant's movement for only a few seconds more, when the giant was beginning to reach back to deal another blow to the forces in front of him Korb released the arrow, it flew fast and true and struck the giant in the skull, the arrows Dragonglass head instantly killing the creature. It collapsed into the strange mix of dust and ice like all other undead did when killed.

The men that had once been in the path of destruction were visibly relieved, but there was one giant remaining. Korb knocked his arrow and with firm resolve sent three bolts flying consecutively after each other. The first missed by a hair, the second hit a thick piece of fur armor on the giant's shoulder, the last managed to strike into the flesh, it to shattered into ice and dust.

Korb sighed, that was two larger targets down, but an endless supply of smaller remained. Korb rejoined his group and continued firing away, although there were holes in the trenches there was still plenty of remaining trench left to help funnel the invading undead. Both Unsullied and Northern infantry formed up in dagger formations to brace against the tide.

While this was happening Korb made sure to glance and assess how the mounted forces were faring. Strangely enough, they were doing quite well, the undead were fast but not as fast as horses, mounted men also had the advantage of height to see the dangers better. Spears could be wielded from a distance, even when in retreat allowing them to fight on all sides of their steeds.

Korb could not allow himself to stay out of the battle for too long, the undead were constant now, they a river of darkness perpetually eroding all that stood before it. Arrow after bloody arrow Korb fired into the fray. His arms ached and his voice grew hoarse from yelling orders. He could see the weariness on the men around him.

Haggard faces sweaty and red-faced, tired of fighting and tired of war. Every so often Korb would look to the sky to see the dragons flying after each other attempting to burn the other. Their piercing cries hovering over the field. At times Jon and Daenerys would bring the dragons down and burn tracks of the undead when the tide became too much, other times they were high above the field in the cloud coverage, two contrasted dots in the sky.

The battle turned against them when the storm hit. An icy blast of bitter harsh winds made nearly all the men cease fighting as they braced themselves against it. The flames nearby sputtered a few even went out, snuffed away by the great north wind. Korb held one hand up to the level to his eye as another grasped onto the ledge before him.

He squinted as he peered out on the field. A sudden wave of chills ran up and down his body.  _'If this continues I may go hypothermic, the armor is making me sweat and the cold is freezing it to my body, all the men will be at risk for illness.'_ Korb grimaced, a problem for another time, first, he had to survive this battle. 

Large shadows loomed just beyond his vision. The sharp winds screamed in his ears the cold biting at his face in a frenzy. He felt his body begin to shiver he could see his breath in a thick frost. The feeling of his nose hairs freezing as well as his eyelashes, he blinked them away then wrapped a part of his cloak around his mouth, the fabric did little but it helped stop the sting of the blistering wind.

The wind lessened only some, but it was enough to allow Korb better purchase in viewing what lies beyond their lines. Korb felt his stomach drop and his heart skip a beat. A long row of maybe a hundred? two hundred? Mammoths stood in a line. Korb's mouth hung open, actual undead mammoths, enormous shaggy beasts with half-rotted fur draping off their bones, half of them were missing trunks, others only had a small fraction of it remaining but there was no mistaking those lumbering creatures with massive tusks.

What made matters even worse were what rode the mammoths, giants...undead mounted giants on mammoths. "We're Fucked" Korb whispered to himself, for a brief moment Korb felt happy to not be on the front lines, but then the thought of what those men must feel down there on foot, staring at these creatures that stood 12 to even 20 ft in height with their enormous curved tusks.

There was no stopping these things, perhaps if they had only twenty or so they would be manageable. But 200? Korb's mind was reeling, how could they take them down before they reached the infantry? The cavalry had a chance, they could outrun the mammoths most likely but where would the infantry go? Korb brought his bow and arrow up, he vowed to take out as many of those beasts as possible.

His arms were screaming at him but he ignored it, the adrenaline returned into his veins. "I know your tired lads, but we need to kill those fuckers before they reach the lines or we are fucked." He announced to the men around him. The men nodded solemnly, their gaunt and tired forms swayed where they stood but their eyes shone with determination.

With a nod he knocked his arrow and turned, preparing to fire with all his might. The mammoths began their thunderous charge, their massive tree trunk legs shaking the ground with each lumbering step. Their ungodly trumpets trampled all other noise. Korb watched as some men attempted to flee the field, the army was being held by a thread.

Korb began to fire wildly high into the sky hoping that at least one or two of his arrows hit. But it was no use what was one or two mammoths going down in a massive charge such as this? They could not stop this. Korb glanced to the skies, where was Jon and Daenerys? He could not see any dragons, he couldn't even hear any because of the mammoths.

Korb's heart sank, the feeling of dread and failure beginning to take hold. His throat became dry as he searched earnestly in the skies above, still no sign of dragons. He fired a few more shots wildly, his group joining him, it may be a lost cause but he was not giving up. He was not going to be one of those men who turned and ran, he would face his enemy on the battlefield and die fighting.

All around him archers shot rapidly doing their best to stop the inevitable. The rush of desperation filled Korb's limbs, he could hear his heartbeat loud in his ears, the thunder of the charge the outcry of the men, in this single moment he never felt more alive. The mammoths were a hundred feet from the mainline, somehow they had whittled down only twenty so far, a few giants were killed of their might steeds but the charge continued.

With still no sign of either Jon or Daenerys, Korb expected this charge to buckle their army entirely but before he could knock his next arrow, a cry resounded so strongly and so powerfully over the field that it even drowned out the stampede of mammoths. It shook Korb to his very core, this was a call of something so massive and ancient even the horde of mammoths seemed to slow or was it a trick of his eye?

Korb turned his head to the right, he blinked suddenly, he could see a lightening in the sky in the east, had they been fighting all night? Was morning attempting to break through the darkness? Korb could not delve further on the thought for another roar came thundering from the sky like a vengeful god on a tirade.

Then from the cloud coverage, a figure cloaked in white, the clouds parted revealing a massive dragon. One whose size was no longer believed to be true, the last living great dragon from a time forgotten. She glided in a mantle of silver and white, her hulking size overtaking the very sky itself. Screams of outrage and confusion could be heard but Korb ignored them, he grinned, Sigligon had finally arrived to battle.

 


	28. Chapter 28 - Pale Dawn -

_Sigligon Dilis_

Sigligon bid Old One fly faster, Old One could sense Sigligon's desire for faster travel so onwards she pressed. It had taken far to long to find suitable prey for the dragons to eat. Time was wasted for her to come to Winterfell's aid. When she neared Winterfell and heard the sounds, a rumbling like distant rolling thunder she panicked unsure of what she would see when she arrived.

She felt Old One shift beneath her legs, a sudden deafening roar blasted out from Old One, it punctured the sky and reverberated throughout the area, stretching outwards across the plains and through the hills to the foot of the far off mountains. She could see Winterfell now, the armies in front of it and the mass of darkness threatening to swallow it whole. 

She swooped down Old One and her gliding through a cloud that blocked her sight for only a moment. They broke through Old One roaring again this time even stronger if possible.  _'You are going for it aren't you girl?'_ Sigligon thought to herself before looking below to the battle. She stiffened, it was a mess, the army barely holding together, the cavalry's beginning to fall back, and charging towards them a massive line of lumbering shaggy beasts.

"Mammoths?" Sigligon said to herself, but she saw that these were not mammoths as she had read about, they were moldering and decomposing hunks of flesh. On their backs rode giants, her heart skipped a beat, there were hundreds of them all barreling down on their poor army. She kicked her feet into Old One's sides as they surged forward, she could feel the expanding of lungs as Old One began to take a deep breath.

They had to stop this charge, it was now or never, only a hundred or so feet remained between the charging feet of the mammoths and the quivering army of men. With a scream, her and Old One descended even closer letting loose a torrent of white-hot fire. Sigligon watched as the mammoths in front of her crumpled and collapsed beneath Old One's calamitous flames.

Down the line they glided, reaping death in their wake. Making sure to angle Old One so her jets of flame only hit the enemy. Behind her, Sigligon saw Kasta, Mele, and Rhealla joining in. Assisting in the attack with Old One. Siglgion grinned a feeling of sheer power overcoming her, to be astride a dragon so strong she wondered if this was how Aegon the Conquerer felt when he mounted Balerion and took him to war.

Sigligon leaned over and glanced at both sides of the army. The men on the side of the living looked exhausted and bloody. The army of the dead stretched on in numbers far-reaching, so much so Sigligon feared there was no end to them. They stood unmoving, waiting for a command. Men, women, children, giants, dogs, bears, horses and all manner of animals made up its numbers.

Sigligon ducked down close to Old One and continued her assault on the mammoths, they had nowhere to go and had no way to fight back, it was a slaughter, they were brought down so easily by Old One's flames it was nothing to her. When she reached the end of the line she looked behind her to see a long stretch of white flames burning on the ground slowly dying off, piles of dust and bone left in Old One's wake.

She tipped Old One up and into the sky so that she could turn round and make another pass. Behind her the other dragons flew, unsure of what to do and who to attack. Sigligon pointed Old One back into the thick of undead,  _'zālagon'_ she commanded. Old One dipped her head and began to burn the undead beneath her, they were so easy, she cut them down quickly, like a heated blade on butter.

White flames thick and scalding carved paths red, blue and violet flames joining in. The glided over the army once or twice more burning enough of the undead to cause a lull in the battle. Sigligon looked over to see the living army refortifying themselves, taking advantage of the air cover Sigligon gave them. She could sense Old One wanted a rest, she had flown far ways in search of food, and constantly breathing fire worked dragons immensely.

Sigligon spotted a place to land, in the middle of the two mounted armies was three sections divided by the remains of a few trenches. She bid Old One head for an area in the second trench ring. Old One made her way with ease, behind her the other dragons followed. Sigligon heard men shouting in alarm but she ignored them, Old One and the other dragons passing over them peacefully.

Finally, they landed. Sigligon jostled herself slightly as she leaned back and removed her helm. Old One sat passively looking out at the damage she had caused to the undead she chortled to herself as if admiring her handiwork. Sigligon grinned and patted Old One, she has worked so hard Sigligon was very proud of her.

"Still got some fight in you huh, girl?" she said down to the dragon who only chuffed in reply. It was eerie how quiet the battlefield was, Sigligon was all too aware of the number of eyes on them. She turned and glanced towards Winterfell, was Korb still in the tower? As if reading her thoughts she heard a familiar whistle echo from the wall, it was Korb's he was calling to Kasta.

The blue dragon glanced from her to the origin point of the whistle earnestly. Siglgion nodded her head "Go, Kasta." she said. Kasta wasted no time, he turned and flung himself in the air half flying half leaping towards Winterfell. Despite the situation they were in Sigligon chuckled to herself at the blue dragon's antics.

_Korb Hills_

Korb watched in elation as Old One's flames rolled down on the mammoth's. What had once been a terrifying and deadly threat was now no more. The charge of the mammoths cleansed by the fire. He watched as the dragons swooped in and down, lighting paths of fire that cut through the enemy forces reducing them to rubble.

A stunned silence began to take over the men, all of them stared up gawking in shock and awe as these four dragons made their appearances. Korb walked his way up slowly to the more forward-facing tower, all the while witnessing this barrage of flames save their lives. Ser Davos stood there in shock, his face covered in soot, like the men around him he did not move from his position, only remained frozen in place unsure of how to respond to the events transpiring before him. Korb came up beside him Ser Davos noticed him and squinted his eyes at Korb. Korb gave a small grin "I didn't kill anyone getting out if that's what you're worried about." 

Ser Davos frowned but turned back to the fantastical display happening in front of them "No, not that...something tells me you know something about...those things." Ser Davos said pointing his head in the dragon's direction. The dragons were circling back now and coming into land. Korb took his chance in the silence that was descending over the area to blow his whistle that he wore around his neck.

He saw Kastamere perk up and look in his direction. Korb grinned and stepped forward he looked back to Ser Davos. "You are right in your assumption Ser Davos" he quipped as he made his way closer to the edge of the tower. Kastamere was gliding towards him, wings unfurled. A few of the men brought their bows up but Korb yelled out "Hold your fire" with such command that the men around him obeyed.

Kastamere landed on the side of the tower, an action that caused the tower to groan and sway beneath his weight. The men staggered slightly, Korb put his hands out "At ease it's fine." he reassured them as Kastamere's head poked over the side of the wall sniffing fervently for his scent. Korb put a hand out towards him "It's okay Kasta....it's me you remember me right?"

Kasta took only a moment to recognize Korb before an excited churring was beginning to fill his throat and chest. Korb grinned and stepped up next to Kasta's head grabbing a horn, he turned back to Ser Davos and the rest of the men that stared. "As you were," he said not sure what else to say as he stepped up unto the back of Kasta's neck then half slid half climbed his way down Kasta's long neck before landing in the saddle and strapping himself in with ease. Korb glanced up to see Ser Davos and a few of the other men peering over the wall down at him.

Korb raised two fingers to his head in a salute then turned Kasta, Kasta took two lumbering steps before leaping up into the air, he flapped only a few times before he slid down and landed next to Old One. They were on the grounds in front of the second trench barrier, all around them Korb could see the remains of the undead, random ancient swords, and weapons, piles of half crumbled bones. The remains of the destroyed sections of trench scattered. Korb looked over to Sigi, she wore stark armor, her face and hair mattered with black dust and smoke. 

She beamed at him when their eyes met. Korb took out her bow and held it aloft for her to see. She nodded and quickly unbuckled herself and stood up in the saddle, Korb did the same. Both of them walked down the necks of their dragons as both Kastamere and Old One tilted their heads towards the other dragon forming a bridge. Kasta's neck hovered below Old One, Korb looked up to Sigligon who now bent down to take her bow from Korb. "Came just in time," he commented, genuinely happy to see her.

Sigligon shrugged "Sorry, took a bit to find some food for Old One." She answered while shouldering her bow. Korb threw a quiver of Dragonglass arrows. "Use these, a touch of Dragonglass kills the undead." Sigligon studied the arrows for a brief second before nodding. Korb turned and assessed the battle, there was still a lull but he could hear the undead make their way back towards them. Korb reached up towards Sigligon. She knelt and grabbed his hand, "Be safe" he said to her. Sigligon smiled "Same to you, we will talk later." 

Korb nodded and he and Kastamere retreated away from Old One and Sigligon. Korb glanced back and saw Mele and Rhealla sniffing and pawing at the ground, they glanced around occasionally at all the excitement going on but remained calm. The flames that Old One had produced when she hit the mammoth charge were rapidly depleting, and just beyond the shadows of the flames, Korb could see the undead moving in the night.

Just then Korb heard a terror-filled scream punctured the night air. He and everyone else looked up into the sky, tumbling through the air was Rheagal, the dragons scream of pain echoed and sent chills down Korb's spine. He cried out an incoherent mess as he watched the dragon impact into the ground sliding several feet before jutting to a stop.

Korb and Sigligon vaulted into the air on their dragons, flying past their side of the battlefield into the gray of no man's land. Thankfully there was no enemy nearby as both he and Sigi landed. Rheagla lay flat on the ground, snow and dust were beginning to settle around and on the dragon. One wing lay flat on the ground torn partially at the edges, the other lay curled on his other side.

Korb held his breath as he watched the dragon's side, looking for breathing or any sign of life. It was an agonizing couple of seconds as he unbuckled himself from his saddle, all the while keeping his eyes glued to Rheagal's sides. Then there it was a movement! Rheagal's neck turned slightly and he let out a weak mewl.

Korb and Sigligon were off their dragons running towards Rheagal. The green dragon did not seem to notice or care about the two approaching humans. Rheagal's eyes were wide and laced with pain. He panted as he moaned out, Korb could see the lacerations on his neck and parts of his chest, this dragon had taken a beating. Thick hot blood bled from the wounds, bubbling and boiling as it dripped out unto the ground.

Korb shot his eyes to Rheagal's back, where was the King? He glanced around furiously looking for a black cloak in the snow. His heart raced wildly, what if Jon had fallen off somewhere else? What if Jon was under Rheagal! Korb began to race around to the other side of Rheagal, making sure to take caution, injured dragons can strike out in fear.

This side did not look as bad, only a scratch or two here and there, this wing seemed barely injured, so there was some hope. Korb scanned the ground looking for signs of Jon. He neared closer to Rheagal, who was now fidgeting slightly, his tail thrumming against the ground. Then Korb heard muffled coughing. 

Flooded with newfound hope he rushed forward trying to find the origin of the sounds. Then he saw a small black figure crawling out from under Rheagal's wing that was curled in at his side. It was Jon! Korb picked his way over to Jon and steadied him with an arm on his shoulder. "Are you okay your Grace?" Korb asked glancing over Jon.

He had a fresh cut on his right cheek as well as several abrasions on his forehead, Jon grimaced and held an arm across his chest.  Korb helped him up and walked him a few steps from Rheagal, Jon's armor was in disarray and his hair was falling out from his top knot. Jon glanced at him with bewildered eyes. "K-...Korb?" he stuttered out.

Then Jon's eyes focused on something behind him and they widened, Jon reached for his blade which somehow remained on his hip through the fall. Korb looked behind him to see a scattering of undead charging at them. Jon grimaced as he half drew his blade. Korb without thinking took the blades handle and pulled it free from Jon's belt. 

He put himself between Jon and the undead, the first one came running in, Korb swung the blade dancing out of the way as he did so. He was already looking for his next opponent. Bringing the blade up it clanged against the undead rusted iron sword. The creature lurched over his blade attempting to bite at Korb but Korb brought his foot up and kicked the creature away, he turned and struck another that had leaped from his left. 

Korb's eyes danced wildly around him, there was six just feet away from him attempting to circle him, their vacant blue eyes glowed in the light, teeth long and glistening white snarled at him through rotted lips. Korb snarled at them, his anger and fear fueling his tired limbs. He was about to swing forward when he heard a familiar 'thunk' sound as an arrow implanted itself through the eye socket of the undead in front of him.

Korb was taken by surprise but knew without looking it was Sigi, knowing she had his back gave Korb the necessary courage to charge forward. He all but leaped bringing the blade down wildly over his head and unto the head of an undead woman dressed in black furs, her matted hair frozen to her scalp. The blade sunk halfway into the woman's skull, shriveled black brain matter splattered out from the gash and the woman crumbled away into dust.

Without pause he spun on his foot, bringing the sword across the other two nearby undead slashing them through their abdomens, both exploded into clouds of crystalline ice fragments and bone. Korb was unable to get to the remaining two undead, Sigligon had beat him to the punch sending a bolt through each of their chests in quick succession.

 Korb turned and nodded to Sigi who stood by Jon, her bow drawn and arrow nocked. "Thanks," he said returning to the two of them, he handed back Jon's sword "Sorry your Grace, I acted on impulse." Jon shook his head "I am in no ability to wield it, keep it for now." Korb nodded and turned his head back to scan the area the undead had just come from, he did not see anything encroaching upon them in the darkness, _'for now at least'_ he thought to himself.

Jon turned back to Rheagal, "He's injured" Sigligon lowered her bow "We can heal him-" Sigligon was cut off as another cry resounded out in the air. All three of them looked up to see Drogon hundreds of feet up in the sky being attacked by Viserion, the undead dragon was knocking into him and clawing him. "Dani!" Jon roared but was nearly taken off his feet in the effort. 

Sigligon's face hardened over as she glanced over and met Korb's eyes. "Stay here with the King, I will see to Daenerys." Korb wanted to argue but Sigligon gave him a look that told him there was no debating. Sigligon turned and ran back around Rheagal, he saw her climb up unto Old One's back and then her and Old One tore off into the sky, leaving Korb and Kastamere alone guarding an injured Rheagal and Jon against the army of undead.

Jon stared up at Old One as if noticing her for the first time, he then swung his eyes over to Kastamere who had moved closer to the both of them. The King looked incredibly confused and shocked. Korb looked up into Kastamere's bright blue eyes  _"Misagon"_ he commanded telling the dragon to stay and protect. Korb turned to wield Jon's sword as he observed a group of twenty or so undead barreling down upon him, he heard the familiar sounds of Kastamere drawing breath to cast his flames and Korb grinned _'this is more like it'_ he thought to himself before striking out at the nearest undead.

_Daenerys Targaryen_

The fight with the Night King did not go how she imagined at all, battling on dragons in the sky was not how she remembered picturing when her brother Viserys told her about them. It wasn't brave or noble or even easy. It took everything she had to stay on Drogon's back, his scales grew slippery with condensation, and the air was so fast and turbulent she could barely keep her eyes open.

Viserion moved faster then she could imagine, his flames blew wildly at them and his claws raked away at them countless times. At one point in the fight, Jon and she were forced up high into the sky due to the amount of wind and snow being blown in their eyes. In the few moments they were up there Daenerys was surprised at how peaceful and serene it was.

She could see on for miles around them, the moon lighting up the tops of clouds, it was like a completely different world, a floating city of clouds. She wished she could have stayed there all night, it was breathtaking and being up there with Jon even in those few moments...she felt whole, complete but that was all tore away when Viserion and the Night King came tearing up at them, jaw's gnashing and flames burning wickedly.

They ran then, gliding and flying as fast as they could away, attempting to figure out a plan to stop Viserion, Jon attempted several times to slash at the nearby Viserion, but because of either the flames or Viserion's claws, he could not get close enough. Then the idea came to latch on to Viserion at the same time came to their mind...what a mistake that was.

Even now Daenerys heart ached, remembering the sight of her precious Rheagal falling through the sky injured and bleeding, Jon clinging to his back crying out her name. She tried to go after him but the Night King had other plans, instead, she was forced up and away higher into the clouds, unable to see where Rheagal landed.

Something inside her told her that her child was still alive, that Jon was still alive...she just knew and she took comfort in that. Her comfort was ripped away from her as Viserion fell upon Drogon. Daenerys ducked and clung to Drogon's back, she could hear Drogon's cries as Viserions claws raked against Drogon's shoulder. 

Drogon fought back, however, his massive jaws digging into Viserions belly ripping it open, chunks of half-rotted flesh and innards beginning to ooze out from the wound. Viserion's bright blue flames burned through the holes in his neck, briefly, Daenerys looked up to the figure who sat unmoving upon Viserion's back.

The Knight King was utterly unnerving, his eyes never blinked or wavered, his body was motionless, any movement he made was slow and calculated. He was an otherworldly presence and looking into his eyes made Daenerys wish to run away and hide. Drogon managed to drop away from Viserion, he keened in pain.

Daenerys poked ahead over to his shoulder, there were dozes of claw marks but none were deep. Drogon's thick scales seemed to have protected from most damage which Daenerys was surprised about. She turned back to look for Viserion but he was gone. Glancing around wildly she searched for the Night King. Her heart thundering in her chest her hands shaking, she never felt true fear until today, even atop her dragon Drogon, she felt like a little mouse being stalked in the night.

Suddenly, her world began to spin around wildly as she felt a great force slam into her from below. Drogon went spinning in the air, Daenerys screamed clinging desperately to any and everything she could, but it was too much, she felt her grip begin to loosen. Somehow Drogon righted himself roaring out in anger.

He flapped wildly, the momentum causing her grip to falter completely, just then Viserion struck again this time from above. Her heart pounded and her stomach lurched as her entire body spasmed thrashing about Dragons slick neck and shoulder, doing everything she could to try and find something to latch onto.

Her fingers dug into Drogon's scales, she was no longer on his back where the nice long frills rested, instead, she was clinging to a large ridge of muscle that led from his neck to his wing. She managed to hold herself there but it took every ounce of her strength. Her feet kicked at Drogon's side as she thrashed about trying to get a foothold so that she could propel herself upwards once more.

The Night King completely forgotten her only enemy now was the pull of the earth so very far below. She panted and a feral cry tore out from her throat her mid raced with only one thought  _'Don't fall, I can't fall, please don't let me fall!'_ She yelled out for Drogon, who attempted to bring his head over to nudge her up, but the action caused the muscle shelf she was grabbing unto restrict, she screamed again, Drogon stopped his movement and cried out strangely.

Daenerys gritted her teeth and tried to pull herself up, the action only caused her to slip more. She was slipping down his neck, the fear in her belly grew into acceptance, she was going to fall...she was going to die. An eerie calmness began to fill her as her fingers relaxed, she was barely holding onto any of Drogon now, in a few seconds she would be past all hope.

Her mind moved slowly, her thoughts drifted to random life events. Eating dinner with her brother Viserys, back when she was young and back when he used to care, telling stories about their father, how strong a king he was, how brave. The day she first rode her silver mare how freeing it felt, the random nights she would cradle her dragon eggs, turning them over in the flames, dreaming of waking real-life dragons again. The night she truly fell in love with her Dothraki husband, the day she was told she would bear the stallion that mounts the world, all these events now far and fleeting.

She closed her eyes and let the earth pull her into its embrace. Something caught her, a motion that made her eyes blot open. She was being held by one arm, an action that caused her shoulder, arm and back to scream in agony. Her mouth fell open as the looked up into the eyes of Sigligon. Her face was covered in black dust and her hair fell in unkempt curls also matted with black dust and mud, but it was her.

She leaned far over Drogon's back and neck, clutching unto his frills as she strained at Daenerys weight. Daenerys bewildered and confused couldn't process what was happening at first, but her instinct kicked in and she began to pull herself up with the help of Sigligon. Slowly she managed to bring herself back up onto Drogon.

An effort that took all of her strength. She sat huddled over Drogon's neck panting and shaking, by the gods the shaking in her limbs she felt like a newborn foal just on its feet for the first time. Sigligon kept an arm around her shoulders. She spoke to Daenerys "It's okay, we got you, we chased the Night King off, for now, take your time."

The words drifted down foggily in her mind, she could hear them but not comprehend. Her entire being was distraught, she had almost fallen to her death, and the worst part of it was that she almost accepted it, she didn't fight against it or anything, all her goals and dreams would have been snuffed out if it wasn't for Sigligon.

...Sigligon, how did she get up here? Her mind was becoming grounded again, her thoughts becoming more coherent as she filtered through her emotions. She looked up into Sigligon's eyes "H...how?" Sigligon put a firm hand on her shoulder "I can explain later, there is much yet to do." Sigligon then stood and with a wave fell backward's off Drogon's back. 

 

 


	29. Chapter 29 - Aftermath -

Daenerys Targaryen

"NO!!!" She screamed out, her heart skipping erratically as she leaned far over desperately searching for Sigligon's form in the air below. But she wasn't there, there was no sign of her anywhere. Momentarily Daenerys wondered if she had imagined it all. But it had felt so real, and how could she explain being pulled up unto Drogon's back? 

Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard the wingbeats of another dragon. She stiffened and braced herself. They were coming from below, she gritted her teeth and prepared to face the Night King once more. She squinted as she peered ahead where the sound seemed to be emanating from, the clouds began to part slowly, she could see white wingtips as hauntingly like a ghost the white dragon floated up out of the cloud coverage.

There was something different, Viserion no longer moved like he had been, whereas before his wings moved jaggedly they now beat strong and fluid. His skin was a more pure white, not the deathly gray pallor as it once was before, and could it be a trick of the eye or was he much larger now? Calmly he drifted up into view.

Daenerys stared in dismay, her mouth hanging open as before her hovered a dragon of immense size, far larger than both Drogon and Rheagal. It's great white wings beating proudly in the night sky, it's eyes a silver-gray met hers, she could feel the gaze wash over her, this creature was old, it borrowed its eyes into her and Daenerys felt like she was being judged.

A glimmer of recognition flickered across its eyes, how was this possible? Daenerys could help but keep staring at it, unable to register the fact another dragon was before her, the moment felt suspended in time as her feelings washed over her, a ripple of excitement to see another dragon so large, then one of fear, surely a dragon so big could easily destroy her own? But her mind was disallowed from contemplating for long.

A surge of realization, hitting her strongly nearly tearing from under her all the things she had been so sure about before. Korb was right, Tyrion was right, Sigligon...Sigligon had been right all along! Daenerys snapped her eyes to the dragon's back, it was hard to see over its great hulk. But there on it's back was Sigligon, she seemed dwarfed by the dragon's size, it's head could easily enclose around Drogon's, it's wings gave off such powerful gusts Drogon flailed to stay afloat in front of it.

Sigligon sat perched on this great white dragon, Daenerys squinted, there was something different about the way she sat, she sat comfortably and at east, barely gripping unto the dragon at all. Sigligon looked as if she belonged there, riding a dragon so large looked effortless. How? Daenerys asked herself but then she saw the glint of moonlight off of the dragon's chest, there was something there! Straps of leather buckled and wrapping around the dragon's torso...it was a saddle! The dragon had a saddle? She had never heard of dragon saddles, could it be possible?

Once again Daenerys was ripped away from her thoughts as the sound of Viserion's wretched scream came barreling towards her. She reacted immediately diving down with Drogon. The wind screamed in her ears as adrenaline and fear began to course through her veins surging within her with the force of thundering hooves, her heart a steady and strong beat the same as a smithy's hammer.

Downward she went on Drogon's back fleeing before Viserion's flames. She could feel the heat of them from behind her licking at her back and on Drogon's flesh. They dipped lower now beneath the clouds, Daenerys gazed around her at the battlefield, she was surprised to see the lines still holding, she had thought when the trenches were destroyed the lines would fall back. 

The undead army was to her left, a mass of black swarming like bee's in a hive. She spotted the fallen form of Rheagal and her heart called out, but she saw his head lift up and cry at her. She saw two forms near him, elation filled her for a moment spotting Jon's familiar black cloak. Next to him was a warrior, fighting with him, then she saw a burst of bright blue and green flames.

Once again her jaw fell open it was another dragon??? This one was bright blue, it's scales shimmering like the sea. Suddenly she remembered what Korb had told her. "Tempimere is the daughter of Belerion the Black, she has scales of the whitest of snow, her eyes are silver with hints of blue...her head is the size of a carriage and horses combined."  Daenerys thought back to the massive dragon Sigligon had ridden, 'that one must have been Tempimere, which means....this one is Kastamere?'  she asked herself.

Rapidly she darted her eyes around attempting to spot the other two dragons that Korb had claimed. A roar to her right and she saw a powerful red dragon scour a group of undead with his red and gold flames. Floating in the air next to him was a slim and graceful dragon hints of lilac and white glowing in the light.

A torrent of icy blue flames just grazed past her head, the crackling of fire loud in her ear, she cried out and Drogon jerked away to the left. She looked behind her Viserion was just above her, he could see his massive talons reaching out for her, he roared violently his eyes filled with cold fury. She ducked down as close as she could to Drogon's back all the while staring as the claws inched closer.

Then from the corner of her eyes, she saw a blur of white. The impact snapped one of Viserion's wings, the sound reminding Daenerys of a tree breaking from the force of the wind.  The tortured scream of Viserion filled the air as Daenerys turned her head to see Viserion her undead child being grasped in the mighty claws of Tempimere.

Viserion looked like a plaything, Tempimere was nearly three times his size one foot gripped either side of Viserion who was unable to move, he roared blue flames wildly, doing his best to turn his head to face the massive dragon that captured him but his efforts proved fruitless. A blast of pure white flames hot and burning fell over the Night King, hope flooded Daenerys chest, perhaps the flames would kill him?

But her hope sunk when she saw the Night King fall from Viserion, he fell almost casually, no movement no hint of care, his arms outstretched and his eyes as ever unblinking. Viserion was alone now, an animal trapped in the hunters snare. He screamed in pain, but Daenerys knew that although he was reacting to these events, he was no longer alive, he was merely a puppet, a tool for the Night King, the dark magic was the only thing that kept him animated and 'alive'.

Then Tempimere latched her massive jaws around Viserion's neck holding him in place, with a monumental feat of strength, she began to pull Viserion apart. It was slow and brutal, she was a maestro and Viserion was her instrument to be played, a symphony of bones snapping and cracking in quick succession, Viserion's screams turning into ragged bellows of hot air hissing out of punctured lungs.

Her feet slowly worked ripping his sides apart, one wing firmly grasped in each paw. She watched as his sides splinter open like a child would break open a nut. Sheets of decomposed muscle slipped out from the opening in his desecrated flesh, black blood poured out from all orifices and wounds, ropes of intestines dropped pulling with them the other internal organs, Viserion was gutted, crushed and rent apart unfazed by his bodies mutilation.

With one last massive heave Tempimere tore both wings from his sides, the remnants of Viserion fell hissing weakly, with a great impact he splattered all over the ground, a great heap of mutilated flesh and scales, he no longer was a dragon, just a pile of flesh. Tempimere dropped his wings, they fluttered to the ground still twitching here and there.

Daenerys leaned down over Drogon's side and emptied her stomach contents, when she was done she stared down at the remains of her child, because of the Night King's power he was still animated, shivers ran through all pieces of flesh and limbs, but he could no longer do anything except twitch and hiss, his head ad jaw flopping on the ground his eyes staring up unfocused, the Night King's power still somehow lingered.

Daenerys felt pity for Viserion, only because he deserved a better death than this. She wished she could end this curse upon his flesh, to allow his body to truly rest even if his spirit was no more. Daenerys wish was answered, within a moment of Viserion's fall, Sigligon stood drawing her bow, a single arrow was shot and it hit its mark burying itself into Viserion's bright blue eye, instantly his flesh went slack he was just another corpse on the field.

Daenerys turned Drogon away and flew towards where Rheagal and Jon were, she landed Drogon and sat upon his back staring out into the sea of undead. Daenerys registered Sigligon following on Tempimere, the both of them landed a ways from her and Drogon. Daenerys turned her head to Sigligon. Sigligon bowed in response.

Daenerys felt numb, both physically and mentally, all she wanted was the fighting to be over for the war to stop. Once more her wish seemed to be answered. A silence descended on the battlefield. The entire Undead army went still, not a single one moved. Daenerys realized all too suddenly that it was very early morning, a shallow white light was just beginning to fill the air around them.

Daenerys looked around her, her Dothraki, her Unsullied, the Northern troops all of them looked ready to collapse from exhaustion. Some men took the respite to kneel or sit, too tired to care that they were on the battlefield. The only sound Daenerys could hear was the muffled breathing of the dragons, some distant moans of injured men, and horses snorting in the cold.

She sat on Drogon surveying this all, then a figure emerged from the mist, a shiver went down her spine, and a wave of gasps tore through the men. It was the Night King, he walked up slow and methodically. His armor black and ancient, he stood imposing, his ice-blue eyes rimmed with black, his skin a glacial white tinged with blue, it's texture reminding Daenerys of a river frozen in place.

In his hand he held a blue spear, Daenerys recognized it immediately, fear-filled she clung to Drogon ready to fly him away in an instant, she could not lose another of her children to this creature. But he did not look her way, instead, his eyes were cast to Sigligon and Tempimere. Daenerys turned to Sigligon, a warning on her tongue when the Night King launched his javelin.

Already Daenerys could see it's trajectory, it soared through the air, ready to strike down Tempimere. It would hit her, Daenerys knew it already, and the great beast would be struck down, another dragon in the Night King's army. Daenerys could only watch unable to stop it. But Sigligon acted swiftly, pulling out her bow she knocked and arrow and fired, it struck against the javelin, but it did not stop it, the arrow clattering away useless, then another arrow almost instant after the first, the spear was dipping down now losing altitude and speed.

A third fourth and fifth shot, fired with nearly perfect precision forced the ice javelin down and into the ground several feet in front of Tempimere, Sigligon stood on her back, bow still drawn arrow knocked, eyes hardened, her entire being screamed 'try it again, I dare you' to the Night King. Daenerys felt a wave of happiness swell in her chest, Sigligon had stopped the bolt, Tempimere was safe!

The Night King gazed towards Sigligon, his face betrayed no emotion, but Daenerys swore she saw a flicker of surprise glaze over them for only a moment. Daenerys heard a loud rumbling she snapped her head to where Tempimere was, the dragon stomped both of her wing arms into the ground, she raised all her frills and fluttered out her wings, making herself appear as large as possible.

Sigligon moved forward, rushing up the dragon's neck walking in-between two rolls of her neck frills with ease. She stopped when she reached the very top of Tempimere's neck, just behind her horns. Sigligon grabbed unto one to hold herself in place as Tempimere sucked in large lungs of air. All at once she let out an explosive bellowing roar, one that shook the ground and reverberated in the air.

Daenerys instinctively sunk into Drogon's back, Tempimere's thundering cry was nothing Daenerys had ever heard from either of her dragons, it was one of sheer power. Tempimere knew exactly what she was and what she could do, she was powerful and ancient perhaps not as old as the Night King, but Tempimere somehow was able to gauge the Night King and she had found him wanting.

Daenerys turned back to where the Night King stood, he regarded the great dragon with only a single look before he turned his head slowly. From out of the mist another figure emerged, it was a White Walker, Daenerys remembered Jon explaining it as a 'captain' or a 'General' of the lesser Wights in the army of undead, if one of them is killed all Wights underneath it are killed as well.

This White Walker had the same icy mummified look like the Night King, only his hair was long and pure white. He road an undead horse whose skull was completely visible for no soft tissues remained on it. It led a white undead horse, one who had a spearhead run through its neck and whose bottom jaw was missing.

Without a sound the Night King turned and mounted the horse, Daenerys held her breath, waiting for his next move. The Night King sat calmly on his horse he surveyed the battle once more and rested his eyes on Tempimere before with excruciating indifference he turned the horse away and he and the other White Walker retreated into the mist.

No one moved at first, expecting an attack or another charge, but after several tense minutes of waiting the mist began to clear, and the entire undead army was gone, only a few black dots on the horizon retreating into the forest nearby gave them any sense of where the army had gone. They survived, at least for now.

A half-hearted cheer went up from the men before doggedly they began setting the task of clearing away and burning dead, repairing and tending to the wounded. Daenerys felt a wave of tiredness wash over her, but she knew rest would not be coming soon. She turned towards to where Sigligon was, but the woman was already running across the ground Tempimere casually walking behind her as they both headed into the direction of Rheagal.

Daenerys dismounted Drogon and followed after.

Sigligon Dilis

She ran towards the injured Rheagal, already she could see Korb beginning to work on the poor dragon. Korb turned to her, he had a fresh cut on his cheek and his hair fell in disarray but he did not seem too injured from the fighting. Sigligon and his shared a quick smile before assessing Rheagal's condition. "I gave him six drops of Talia, he should be out in a minute or so," Korb said as she neared Rheagal's neck.

A massive crater on Rheagal's neck had blood trickling down. Instantly her mind wandered to countless instructions in the many books she had read over the years, she would treat the wound first with a cleansing agent, then she would pack it in with her healing clay after she would cover it with Scale seal. She whipped around towards Old One scuttling over to the dragon she tore open a few of the pouches on the side of Old One's saddle, an action that forced her to climb up onto Old One's wing to achieve it.

Her hands worked quickly in finding all she needed to tend to Rheagal's wounds. "Korb get a fire going-" "Already on it" she heard Korb's voice interrupt her command. She leaped down her arms laden with supplies. Korb had a few broken spears and a small flame burning nearby, he broke one or two more with his knee. 

"Start warming up some patches!" she told him, he nodded and tore off towards Kastamere to grab supplied from Kastamere's saddle. Rheagal was now asleep thankfully. Sigligon shook the bottle of cleanser, it was a simple tonic of water, honey, ginger, and yarrow oil. She first washed her hands off with it then began to trickle it into and around Rheagal's wound, when she was done with it she dropped the bottle and grabbed the next container of healing clay, it was already half-frozen, she cursed out loud then turned to where the fire was.

She ran over and held the container down into the flame, ignoring the licking of fire at her fingertips. When she believed it to be heated once more she ran back to Rheagal and began to plaster in the clay, it was mixed with honey, yarrow, and goldenrod, good for aiding in wound healing. The clay helped both staunch blood loss but also kept the wound covered and free from infection as it healed when new skin grew underneath the clay would fall away.

Sigligon wiped her brow and brushed off her fingers, the last thing this wound needed was Scale seal, it was made from a mixture of vinegar, pine sap, fish oil, and dragon scales dried and ground. The mixture had the consistency of pitch, it was applied on with a brush and went over the clay and into the surrounding scales, once dried it would keep the wound sealed and also be waterproof.

Sigligon stepped away from her handiwork then turned almost running into Daenerys. "Your Grace!" Sigligon exclaimed nearly jumping from fright. Daenerys gave her a measuring glance her eyes going from between Rheagal and her. They softened for a moment "Continue what you are doing, we will talk when you are done."

Sigligon nodded and hurriedly moved to Rheagal's other side. Korb was kneeling next to the King. Sigligon rushed over to them. Korb glanced up "He's got a few abrasions but I think he had a few cracked ribs." Sigligon frowned "Get him out of that armor, rub some mint salve on it and apply some ice or snow, give him a few doses of birch powder to reduce inflammation."

Korb nodded "Apologies your Grace" Jon shook his head "I'll do all that later, I must see to my men." Jon winced as he attempted to push himself up. Sigligon frowned and turned to him. "Your men are doing well enough, but if you don't let us treat you now there is a high chance the North will be looking for a new King," she stated matter of factly eyes meeting Jon's.

Jon stared at her in surprise, apparently, he was not used to someone being so curt with him. But then a small smile twitched to his lips and Sigligon realized Jon was not angry or upset, he nodded "Fine, do what you can but as fast as you can." Sigligon relented and gave Korb a nod. Instantly Korb began to remove Jon's outer armor to begin the process of tending his ribs. 

Sigligon turned and saw to Rheagal's other wounds, he had many scrapes and cuts, she tended to the ones most crucial then worked her way out to the wings. Eventually, Korb joined her after seeing to Jon's wounds, the King once told he was okay to move left nursing his chest, no longer in armor but wearing simple woolen tunic dyed gray and his black cape.

Together Korb and she worked on 'patching' Rheagals wings, mostly fixing the holes and sewing up tattered pieces of webbing where they could. They treated the edges of tears and holes with cleanser then rubbed a small amount of honey mixed with yarrow to help the healing process, then the patches came into play. Large leather squares affixed with wax on the edges, when applying it a dragon you reheat the wax then press it onto the dragon's skin, when the wax cools it will seal and stick to the dragon-like a great big bandage, only without the hundreds of feet of bandages.

Sigligon stepped away from Rheagal, her and Korb both glanced to one another before they collapsed back into the snow, not caring for the cold. Sigligon wiped sweat from her brow and looked over at Korb. "Good work," she said appraising Rheagal's sleeping form. He looked much better all patched up and treated.

Korb leaned back and lay completely in the snow Sigligon glanced back at him. She was exhausted and wanted to sleep but knew now was not the time, she felt eyes on her. She looked up and saw Daenerys standing near Drogon, beside her was her usual bodyguard the bear night looking haggard. Daenerys began walking towards them.

Sigligon elbowed Korb, Korb groaned and sat up sluggishly. Sigligon pushed herself to her feet, wiping off her hands from the stickiness of the medicine she had used to heal Rheagal. She glanced to her left, Old One sat near the small fire, beside her, her three young 'children' rested with her. Occasionally Old One would sniff at the sleeping Rheagal, mild interest in her eyes but other than that she did nothing.

Daenerys looked tired, her face was pale in the dim morning light Siglgion could see most of the armies had retreated behind Winterfell's walls, only a small portion remained as sentry's in case there was another attack. Large pyres were being built, and the bodies of the freshly dead gathered nearby to burn once words had been said over them.

Daenerys stopped a few feet away she looked down to the ground then she matched Sigligon's eyes. Countless emotions ran through her eyes, thankfully Sigligon did not see anger. "I..." Daenerys started then stopped she bit her lower lip. "I owe you so many things...you saved my life more times than one, you have helped my Rheagal..."

Another pause, Sigligon stood there her hands clasped in front of her mirroring Daenerys. "Time and time again, you have proven to be loyal and true to me, and each time I have spat in your face, I admonished you, chastised you...called you fools and did not believe..." Daenerys turned to look at Old One and the other dragons.

"I...refused to believe refused to see reason...I thought I knew better...but I have found I do not." Sigligon bowed her head "Your Grace" she began. Daenerys motioned her hand letting her continue. "You do not need to apologize...I know now that we did not explain ourselves at all effectively, the fault is in us, not you."

Daenerys shook her head "No, it was my fault...as hard as it is for me to admit it...it was not you...my had Tyrion bid me listen to you, and I let my stubbornness get the better of me." Sigligon was silent watching Daenerys speak, clearly she was troubled by her previous actions, she wanted to make up for them, was realizing them and doing what she could to apologize.

"I too can be stubborn, I take after my father in that regard." Sigligon chuckled out. Daenerys smiled "I suppose I could claim the same, however, I do not wish to make too many comparisons to my sire." Daenerys glanced over to Korb. Korb swallowed "Your Grace" Daenerys quirked an eyebrow, "How did you...leave your...room?" Korb shrugged "I ah...well" Korb cleared his throat "I..sort of knocked out the guards."

Sigligon whipped her head over to Korb "Korb!" she exclaimed. Korb shrugged "What, I didn't want to sit away in that cell waiting for death" Sigligon sighed exasperatedly. Daenerys waved a hand, "It is fine Lady Dilis if Korb showed mercy after what had been done to him he is forgiven." Sigligon turned her head slowly "What had been done to them?" he voice tinging cold. 

Old One grumbled lowly, sensing Sigligon's anger. Daenerys had a small twinge of fear in her eyes but she remained calm and in charge. "As I said, I was stubborn and thought I knew better, I feared that you had taken advantage of me...made me be a fool, I threatened Korb and that is all, an action that I regret now."

Sigligon glanced between Korb and Daenerys before she eventually relaxed. "I believe all parties have done actions they regret..." Daenerys waited a few seconds her fingers playing with the fabric of her dress. "Lady Sigligon of House Dilis" Daenerys began "It has come to my attention that I betrayed my word to you, that I have threatened members of your house and I have falsely imprisoned you, all of the actions are greatly heinous and have harmed pleasantries between our Houses, I Daenerys would like to extend a hand of peace."

Sigligon looked from both Daenerys to Korb to back to Daenerys, she bit her lip unsure of what to say. Sigligon extended an arm out "I will forgive Daenerys of House Targaryen if she apologizes to my brother, returns his sword, and allows House Dilis to serve House Targaryen as we have done for generations, we will serve you loyally and faithfully and we will officially reclaim the title as Dragonkeepers, I being the Head Dragonkeeper those are the terms."

Daenerys glanced to her bodyguard before looking down to Sigligon's arm, she reached forward and clasped Sigligon's arm. Surprisingly Daenerys skin was warm. Sigligon met Daenerys gaze "Do you swear to serve House Targaryen with your hand, heart, and voice?" Daenerys asked. Sigligon nodded "I swear to you your Grace, my children will serve House Targaryen as all that you demand from them, they and I will honor House Targaryen from this day to our last day." Daenerys grinned, Sigligon felt herself beaming with joy as well "Rise, as a Head Dragonkeeper in the service of House Targaryen."

Elated Sigligon bowed her head then lifted it high and proud, she had fulfilled her purpose, she was now sworn and serviced to Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, and she would do all that she had promised and more, from this day to her last day.

 


	30. Chapter 30 - My Dragon's Keeper -

_Sigligon Dilis_

Sigligon had ever felt so proud as she had one this day. Although she was exhausted beyond belief, covered in dragon's blood, Dragonglass dust, ash and sweat she still somehow felt as shiny as a golden crown. She stood off to the side as Korb was sworn in as a Dragonkeeper. When Korb had said his oath and rose up the Knight beside Daenerys handed Korb his blade.

Korb happily strapped it to his waist. Sigligon turned her head to where Old One and the other dragons stood. All of them glancing curiously at Daenerys. "Your Grace, I believe introductions will need to be made." Sigligon voiced as she motioned to Old One. Daenerys nodded and stepped up beside Sigligon. Sigligon turned behind her and nodded to the older Knight, he had a few cuts on his face and looked like he took a blow to his face, blue and yellow bruises were beginning to form around his left eye. 

"If you would like, I have poultice for that," she said motioning up to his eye. The Knight shook his head "No, thank-you I will seek attention later." Sigligon smiled and nodded respecting his decision for now. Daenerys turned back to him "Ser Jorah is a proud Knight, and has survived greater ill's, no need to worry on him."

Sigligon gave a nod before turning back and heading towards her dragons...although now they officially would be Daenerys's dragons wouldn't they? Old One turned her head slowly to greet Sigligon. Instinctively she rushed forward and pressed a hand into her large muzzle. Sigligon grinned up at her giant silver eye _"Ao gōntan sȳz riña"_ Sigligon praised Old One, telling her how good she did. Sigligon glanced back to Daenerys who hung back a foot or so, unsure of what to do.

Sigligon stepped forward and grabbed Daenerys had gently, then led Daenerys forward letting Old One sniffed a few times, large gusts of air that made Daenerys dress flutter. Sigligon spoke calmly "This is Daenerys Targaryen Tempimere...she is our Queen, she has the blood of dragons...I bet you can smell it can't you?" Tempimere turned her head slightly to see Daenerys better, she blinked slowly her eye focusing on Daenerys.

Sigligon extended Daenerys hand forward and pressed it against Old One's muzzle, instantly Old One's eyes softened and she churred lowly. Sigligon smiled taking her hand away from Daenerys. Daenerys glanced to Sigligon "Go on, continue stroking her...talk to her, she likes to listen." Daenerys swallowed and did as bid, she introduced herself, told Old One how beautiful she was, how strong she was. Sigligon hung back watching as the Queen integrated with Old One. Suddenly Sigligon felt a warm object pressed to her back. Right away she knew it was Mele. She turned around and grinned wrapping both arms around his snout before placing a kiss on his nose. "You were so strong today! I am very sorry I did not ride you today, I promise to take you hunting tomorrow."

Mele churred noisily in his throat for a few seconds soaking in the attention. Sigligon stepped away to see Daenerys smiling as Old One continued to sniff and lightly bump into her begging for more affection. Sigligon glanced to Mele "Be good for once." She chided the red dragon before catching Daenerys attention. "This one is Meledarys," Sigligon commented patting Mele on the snout. Daenerys stepped forward, Mele gave a small growl of warning. Daenerys stopped in her tracks. Sigligon eased to in front of Mele. "Daenerys is our friend Mele, I trust her and Old One trusts her...okay?" Mele's fiery eyes shot from her to Daenerys a few times, she could see the cogs turning in his head. 

After a few tense seconds, he calmed down and dipped his head, sniffing curiously. Sigligon brought her hand out and rested it upon his cheek. The ridged scales felt course beneath her hand but she caressed them gently, loving the feeling of being connected to him. Daenerys reached her hand out, letting Mele sniff it before gently placing it on the very tip of his nose, he studied Daenerys for a few seconds before blinking and looking back into Sigligon's eyes.

"I babied him greatly when he was a hatchling, he spent more time on my shoulder than on the ground," Sigligon commented her voice dripping with nostalgia. Daenerys nodded understanding "I am the same with Drogon, a mother shouldn't have favorites...but." Sigligon nodded "A mother always has her favorites...although I can't claim to be the mother of dragons, I am more like the nursemaid of dragons." A laugh, pure and light-hearted came from Daenerys lips. Sigligon felt herself grin, she felt a little more comfortable in the situation, both were learning to adjust to one another. Mele turned away, apathetic to Daenerys. Kastamere slid over to them, instantly nudging Sigligon. Sigligon chuckled and pushed him away Kastamere called out to Korb who appeared next to Sigligon's side.

"We did good, huh boy?" Korb cooed. Kastamere nodded his head vigorously before turning to Daenerys, he did not need to sniff at all, he instantly began prodding her begging for attention. Daenerys scratched and stroked the blue dragon all over before a smaller lighter head appeared from behind him. Sigligon's heart melted, Rhealla the beautiful and serene dragon cast her eyes kindly to and fro from Daenerys and Sigligon.

Sigligon pushed Kastamere's head out of the way, "Yes, yes Kasta we know you want attention...Korb will you humor him?" Korb stepped in immediately and began to coddle Kasta the dragon purring loudly into Korb's chest. Calmly Rhealla walked over to Daenerys, with a knowing look she lowered her head so her eye was level with Daenerys, lilac and lavender met one another, Daenerys reached a hand out and stroked above her eye and on her cheek, Rhealla's eyes closed and she tilted her head back purring loudly her tail motioning from side to side.

Daenerys was smiling happily, elated with the meeting of each dragon. Slowly one by one the dragons turned away and huddled around Old One, seeking solace in their 'mother.' Daenerys stood by Sigligon for a few moments. "It's incredible to see so many, how on earth did you raise them all?" Sigligon yawned tiredness taking her by surprise.

"I would be happy to tell you, your Grace, however, I feel now is not the best time." Daenerys nodded turning and hiding a yawn with her hand. "May I suggest we retire for the...day? Your Grace" Sigligon mentioned confused by the time of day. Daenerys nodded "I shall, but I should see to my men, get accounts of the injured..." Ser Jorah who waited patiently nearby stepped forward "I will see to that your Grace, the men will understand, I will have a report for you when you wake."

Daenerys hesitated for a moment but nodded consenting. They turned and Sigligon saw Drogon huddled on the very outskirts of the group, obviously on guard because of the four strange dragons now residing nearby. Sigligon noticed his injured on his shoulder and chest. "Korb, grab the supplies, it looks like Drogon needs tending."

_Daenerys Targaryen_

Daenerys watched as Sigligon and Korb worked on Drogon, the black dragon accepted their advances without a fight, he lay rather still and allowed them to work, seeming to understand that Sigligon and Korb were here to help. Daenerys sighed softly, she was in the right to offer Sigligon her position, standing there watching the both of them work so hard to heal Rheagal, watching them sacrifice and work themselves to the bone for her...after all she had done to them.

Daenerys closed her eyes, how could she be so brash, so stubborn to not see? Why was she unable at times to see others perspective. Her world view always felt to her as the one that mattered, she was the one who decided what happened to her no one else...perhaps it was the remnants of the life growing up with Viserys, her brother now long dead always controlled her, told her what to wear, told her how to talk, walk, eat, he even married her off to suit  _his_ needs.

She had _Imprisoned both_  of them,  _threatened_ Korb's life, and yet both of them still fought for her, Sigligon saved her life. All without knowing if she was going to turn around and punish them again. She was lucky they were so forgiving, had they, not Daenerys would have made enemies of two people she most certainly did not need being against her.

She needed to learn from this if this allegiance had gone south the consequences would have been costly. But she also needed to be thankful for these newfound allies, for now, she had quite literally a fleet of dragons, and two knowledgeable keepers to heal and take care of them. Already her mind was wondering what knowledge Sigligon and Korb had, perhaps she could tell her things about dragons that her brother did not know. For now, though, Daenerys was exhausted, her entire body ached, reminding her of the days when she first was married to Khal Drogo, the constant hours on horseback left her scared and so tired that she needed a group of handmaids to carry her to her tent.

Right now she wished someone would carry her, even standing upright tired her. She couldn't imagine how Sigligon and Korb felt, Korb had battled on the walls and then in the air, Sigligon had escaped from a tower, rode her dragons hunting then came and saved her, now here she was treating Drogon. Once again she realized how wrong she had been for not believing Sigligon, the signs had all been there and she refused to see. When Korb and Sigligon finished treating Drogon, the dragon wandered over to the tail end of Rheagal and lay curled away from the other strange dragons, by now all of them were sleeping, Korb had built a few small fires around them to help shield them from the cold, but being that it was now turning into day the cold shouldn't be as bad as it was at night.

Sigligon her eyes fighting to stay open commented dryly "We will have to introduce the dragons to each other after we rest." Korb nodded his eyes bleary and bloodshot. All three of them walked back into Winterfell, a quiet was beginning to fall, most men had returned to their tents to sleep, a few were up still drinking ale their eyes vacant as the memories of last night's battle was fresh in their mind. When they entered the keep Daenerys noticed Jon half walking and half limping about talking to injured men, asking how they fared and issuing orders to Maesters, and setting up a watch. 

Their eyes met, his lit up immediately and his face washed over in relief. He staggered over to her visibly wincing as he clutched a hand to his ribs. Daenery's felt a pang of worry, all she wanted to do was to bring him close and embrace him, to take away his pain, but she couldn't, their relationship a hidden one, and she could do nothing.

He stopped in front of her, she could see his internal struggle, he wanted to reach out to her just as much as she did. He cleared his throat, he looked tired but not as much as most others around her. Perhaps he was used to long and sleepless nights. "Are you okay?" he asked her, worry knitting on his brow. She nodded "Yes...I am, just worn out." Jon nodded understanding, he relaxed slightly knowing she was not injured.

"You should go rest, we have a watch being set up, out losses are not too bad...if we burn them quickly they won't have time to join the army of the dead." Daenerys nodded "The Dothraki burn their dead already...after of course slaying a horse for them to ride into the afterlife." Jon raised a brow "Why is that?" Daenerys glanced up to the sky, "The Dothraki believe stars are horses burning brightly when a Dothraki dies they become one of those stars to ride for an eternity in the night lands." she explained.

Jon tilted his head, listening to her explanation, interested in what she had to say. She looked back down and met Jon's eyes "I should let you return to work, please be sure to rest, Sigligon has told me your injuries are extensive." At the mention of her name, Jon glanced over at Sigligon. Daenerys followed his sight and looked to the woman as well.

Sigligon glanced confusedly between the both of them unsure of what to say or do. She cleared her throat and bowed her head "Your Graces?" she stated puzzled. "It's just as she claimed, some cracked ribs and a few scratches but I am in one piece, thanks to both you and Korb," Jon stated nodding his head in thanks at Korb.

Daenerys let her eyes wander over to see Korb, the man stood tall and proud, even in his exhausted state he carried himself in a regal type repose, reminding Daenerys of a bird of prey or a lion. She turned back to Jon, "I am glad they are here, I have apologized and made amends, both of them are now sworn members of my court...my official DragonKeepers."

Jon met her eye, a small glimmer of approval and pride gleamed within them, his cheek twitched in the briefest of smiles. "That is good to hear if there is anything the North has done to offend either we too would like to apologize for it," Jon said directing his words to Sigligon and Korb. Daenerys looked back to the two DragonKeepers, Sigligon shook her head "There is nothing to forgive, you are allied to our Queen, you are also the man who is fighting for the living, we will do all we can to assist you, especially with our- the Queen's dragons." Sigligon said catching herself.

Jon was about to say something but was distracted by Ser Davos striding up to him. "Your Graces, apologies but you are needed elsewhere." Jon sighed an act that caused him to choke in sudden pain but he held it in. "Breathe shallow it will help." Sigligon piped up. Jon gave her a nod, he turned back to Daenerys, she studied him for a few seconds before he said "Your Grace." Daenerys bowed her head and watched as he turned and walked away with Ser Davos.

Daenerys walked through the courtyard, there was a makeshift hospital ward already set up, men were being sorted by their injuries, critical on one area, broken bones and fractures in another, minor wounds like scratches and burns in the final. There was Maesters ad their assistants from all over the region as well as wet nurses and any other person with some degree of medical knowledge helping.

She saw Northmen and Unsullied alike lying next to one another. Some of them asleep, others groaning out in pain. Daenerys wanted to go to her men, confider in them, thank them for their efforts but she was only one woman and she did not have the strength right now. The area itself was still in a chaotic frenzy, although with the battle done things were beginning to calm for the healers there was still much to do for them.

Daenerys passed by baskets filled with bloodied cloth's, tools and bandages lay scattered on the ground, armor had been tossed haphazardly and weapons were being gathered up to be cleaned and reissued. Nearly all in the castle yard had a blank expression, eyes peering out through masks of Dragonglass dust while snow lightly fell from the sky and covered their heads and shoulders.

A small pile of dead was covered by a large gray sheet, a trail of blood led from it to the surgery tent that had been raised. Daenerys moved past it emotionless, she had seen so many dead men she was numb to their sights and smells. Finally, she made it to the keep, inside it was quiet, servants moved in hushed whispers, every so often as Daenerys moved through the halls she could hear people weeping or praying for the dead.

She did not bother anyone instead she staggered into her room, the fire was low she did not care nor want to produce the effort to build the fight higher. She walked straight to her bed and climbed in, she did not care about her clothing or shoes, she did not care about her face or her hair, all she wanted was sleep. In the back of her mind, she heard someone add more wood to the fire, and hushed whispers but those faded from her mind quickly as the thick blanket of sleep overtook her.

_Tyrion Lannister_

Tyrion sat in the chair next to the fire, he read casually the book that he had taken from Korb and Sigligon's wagon, he was absently reading the same paragraph about the female dragon 'Red Queen' for probably the third time before he decided to close the book entirely. Tyrion was not tired, he was accustomed to long nights of little to no sleep, so while everyone slept he remained.

Varys had joined him at first, but after an hour or so even the spider had found himself needed to rest. So back to his web he went and the little Lion was left alone in front of the fire. Tyrion glanced down a few feet in front of him. Lady Sigligon Dilis was asleep, using the stomach and chest of Korb Hills as her pillow. Korb meanwhile had grabbed a pillow from the chair to rest his head.

Both had removed most of their armor, it was all piled neatly in the corner next to the fireplace. Sigligon had used Korb's cloak as a blanket and looked to be quite comfortable in where she slept. Missandei slept in a small cot next to Daenerys bed, parted by a standing screen so that she could have some privacy. His Queen Daenerys was already asleep by the time they returned, Missandei took it upon herself to remove Daenerys boots and to tuck the DragonQueen into bed as if she were a small child. Tyrion ached only slightly, it was cramped down in the crypts of Winterfell, but there was wine and enough candlelight to read, so read he did while Sansa Stark and a few of the older mothers told storied to keep children entertained and to distract them from the sounds of fighting above their heads.

Tyrion sipped some water while grabbing the last piece of buttered bread that was next to him. He munched on it thoughtfully, it was almost mid-morning he would expect for some of the warriors from the night before to begin waking either now or by noon at the least. He was very interested in how Korb and Sigligon had managed to not only escape from their previous predicament but also become welcomed members on the Queen's inner counsel, it most likely had something to do with the four large dragons now outside Winterfell.

Tyrion set his cup down and nearly leaped off his chair when with an instantaneous speed Korb sat straight up from where he had been sleeping only a moment ago. "The Unsullied" he whispered hoarsely to himself with worry. Tyrion did his best to settle himself, Korb twisted his head around, he looked a little tired yet but his eyes shone brightly with refreshment. "Oh...hey," he said glancing to Tyrion. Tyrion gave him a nod "Afternoon" Korb glanced down to Sigligon, who somehow did not wake up from Korb's movements. 

Gently he eased Sigligon's head off his lap and placed the pillow underneath her. She curled up closer to the fire. Korb stretched with his height his fingertips almost brushed against the ceiling. "Apologies, but I just remembered the Unsullied in the room," Korb whispered hurriedly to him. Tyrion was confused, not understanding what Korb meant. "I am sorry...I don't follow?" he quietly replied, taking care not to raise his voice. Korb pointed upwards, "The...tower...I...we were in, I locked the Unsullied guards in there."

A pause. "Oh," Tyrion said and pushed himself off his chair then quickly crossed the room and opened the door a crack to peer into the hall. Two unsullied guards stood as was usual. "Pardon, but we believe two of your numbers are locked still in the tower upstairs...you best send someone to free them at once." The Unsullied guards nodded, one of them turned and left the other remained behind.

Tyrion turned back into the room and closed the door. Korb was standing near the fire, his arms crossed behind his back as he looked into the flames. Tyrion crossed over the room and sat back in his chair. "So, what shall we talk about?" he asked quietly Korb glanced over to Tyrion an eyebrow quirked. "What do you usually talk about?" Korb murmured back. 

Tyrion settled himself into his chair better. "Mostly anything, books, politics, history, wine, jokes...the list is endless really," Tyrion added dryly making sure to keep his voice quiet for those asleep in the room. "You believed us...before you even looked at our dragons...why?" Korb asked suddenly. Tyrion frowned as he contemplated the question.

Korb waited silently his blue eyes studying him. "As I explained before," Tyrion began scooting forward in his seat. "I like to think of myself a learned and intelligent man, I like to think I am a good people person...and a good judge of character," Tyrion added thoughtfully at the end. "From the moment you arrived till our Queen put you in that holding cell, I kept thinking, why would two people try as much as they did to prove themselves in this endeavor, what could they possibly gain from it?" he explained taking a sip of water as he paused for a moment.

Korb continued to watch him letting Tyrion take all the time he needed. "Then there was the papers...I served as Hand to my nephew, I read and remember the marks of most of the old Targaryen Kings, those were exact copies...and finally...as I stated before your reactions to the dragons themselves."

Korb nodded thoughtfully as he looked away and back into the fire. "You are right, our Queen was wise to choose you as Hand, you are intelligent and understand people." Korb complemented Tyrion. Tyrion lifted his water cup to Korb in thanks "Let's hope I stay that way...did you want food or wine?" Korb paused for a second then shook his head "No, I should wait for Sigligon."

As if on cue Sigligon sat up slowly, her hair a wild mass of red waves most of it attempting to escape from the top knot she had put it in. She turned and scanned the room her eyes still glazed over from sleep. Yawning widely she met Tyrion's eyes, she startled seeing him and instinctively brought her blanket up to cover her but realized she was still rather full clothed.

Burning red she quickly staggered up and began to adjust her clothing with her back turned to Tyrion. Tyrion gave her the courtesy and looked away as she did so. She turned back around to face him letting her hair out from her top knot so it fell in bountiful waves down her shoulders and back, the light from the fireplace glinting off of the curls making it look like she had embers in her hair.

Some parts of her face were still smudged with the black dust and mud. But she acted as if she had no idea so Tyrion thought it rude to tell her so instead chose not to say anything at all. "Lord Tyrion" she whispered as she curtsied "Lady Sigligon" Tyrion replied. "What time is it?" Sigligon asked him. Tyrion glanced outside "I would say it is almost noon." he answered casually.

Sigligon frowned "The dragons will need to be fed, we should go hunt." Korb nodded "We should, but we will have to wait for the Queen's permission, she has not given us leave to do so." Sigligon looked rather shocked as she turned and stared at Korb. Tyrion smiled to himself Sigligon seemed to be the type of person who was unused to serving someone, she had always done what she wanted when she wanted, he had a theory her first few days being a vessel to Daenerys would be interesting ones.

"But she is asleep?" Sigligon whispered hurriedly to Korb. Korb shrugged "So we wait for her to wake?" he suggested. Sigligon glowered like a child being told no. Tyrion had to do his best to not laugh out loud. Sigligon sighed and stood there awkwardly waiting. Tyrion shook his head life would be different now, Daenerys now had two DargonKeepers and six dragons, and the Head DragonKeeper seemed to be just as stubborn if not more so than the Queen herself, things would be very interesting indeed, he thought to himself as he studied the two DragonKeepers, but he had a feeling that the changes would be for the good.


	31. Chapter 31 -Reprieve-

_Daenerys Targaryen_

Daenerys was awoken with a knock on the door. Slowly she lifted her head, her face felt sore from continued sleeping in the same position. Slowly she lifted herself from the bed, she realized that she was no under covers, although she still wore the same dress as she had from the battle. She realized how hot and heavy it was, and that the under layers had shifted around while she slept and were bundling up in random parts of her body. She flung her blankets away and stood, realizing how badly she needed to use the privy. She walked over to the corner of the room where a small door was, ducking down and into a small room there was a private privy for her to use.

When her business was done she left feeling slightly better now that the constant ache of her bladder was no more. She returned to the room and scanned its occupants. Missandei stood nearby next to her wardrobe knowing already that Daenerys would want to change clothes. Daenerys saw Tyrion standing next to the fireplace waiting patiently. Next to him stood Korb and Sigligon. The two Dragonkeepers looked like they had slept well enough and they two were still dressed in their clothes from the previous night, as well as both still had dirt and grime covering their faces. 

 _'Did they not leave to change?'_ Daenerys thought to herself. Quickly Daenerys slipped behind her changing screen, Missandei was there to undo the back hooks of her dress and Daenerys stepped out of the heavy winter gown. Underneath she had a gray silk shirt and a pair of black wool breeches. She changed both her shirt and breeches to match what she had been previously wearing, then pulled on a gray dress that flowed to her knees, the dress crossed over on opposite sides of her bust with red fringing along the arms, shoulders, and chest. 

She finished her ensemble by pinning a three-headed dragon pin to her left shoulder. Once changed she combed through her long silver hair quickly, pulling it back softly and braiding a small portion of it and pinning it to the back of her head. The rest she let flow down the sides of her neck. Newly changed she exited her changing area and crossed over into the middle of the room. 

She set herself by bringing her hands before her, she then nodded to Missandei to go and allow whoever knocked permission to enter. Missandei dipped her head as she crossed the room and opened the door. It was Samwell Tarly, the man Daenerys had the misfortune of having to confess to him that she had burned his father and brother alive after the battle of the GoldRoad when they refused to bend the knee.

Sam bowed his head, he seemed to always have a wide-eyed and fearful look to him. He also seemed to stammer over his words when he first spoke to anyone. But somehow he had come to be Jon's best friend, Jon had told her stories of his and Samwell's adventures on the wall, there was no one else he trusted more than Sam.

Daenerys smiled softly to him "Afternoon Samwell, to what do we owe the pleasure." She greeted him warmly. Sam gave the faintest smile "I..uh," he paused and cleared his throat. "There is going to be a meeting in the great hall soon, just thought you should know." Daenerys nodded "I see, very well let King Jon know that we shall be in attendance."

Sam nodded "I will let him know, I...er...thank-you, for last night...your dragons...they pretty much saved us." Sam stated unsure of who's eyes to meet, her's or Sigligons. Daenerys took the lead "yes...Sigligon, my Dragonkeeper, came at the most opportune time I would think." Daenerys glanced over to Sigligon. Sigligon's bright blue eyes bobbed between Sam and her's before she bowed her head in reverence.

"Yes...well..apologies I shouldn't take any more of your time," Sam said bowing deeply then turned and scuttling out of her room. It surprised her, how such a large man could move so quickly. Daenerys glanced over to Korb and Sigligon "Did you sleep enough?" she asked them. They both nodded, "If you would like to go change you are free to do so, but you must hurry back, I would like all my advisors to meet and be on the same page with one another." Sigligon and Korb bowed then hurriedly left the room.

Once they were gone, Daenerys turned to Missandei "Call for Grayworm if he is not busy, as well as Lord Varys." Missandei bowed and left. Daenerys turned and walked over to the chest of dragon eggs, they had been sitting at the foot of her bed for now. She opened the chest and carefully ran her hands over the rough shells. 

Should she hatch one? It had been so long since she heard the sounds of singing dragons, she would also like to have another to fill in the spot of Viserion if she could. She smiled at the memories of her creme-colored child, the child that now lies in a pile outside of Winterfell. She removed her hand from the chest and closed the lid. Now was not the time to have fragile hatchlings, perhaps later...if there was a later.

Daenerys turned and walked over to the fire where Tyrion now stood, he nodded his head to her. "How were the crypts?" she asked him. Tyrion shrugged "Surprisingly warm, but very dark and musty...also the place was entirely filled with stiffs." He added candidly attempting a joke. Daenerys smirked at the comment.

"It is good to see you still breathing, I am glad," she said softly glancing down at her Hand. It was Tyrion's turn to smirk, "You are? I had thought you had lost faith in me." He said easing his way into a more difficult conversation. Daenerys sighed remembering what she had said in the tower. "Yes...well, I was irritated at the time and eventually it was proven that you were right once again if only I had the ability to believe in things like you" She added dryly.

Tyrion shook his head turning to face her, he looked up into her eyes with intensity. "I told you before, I am not a man who believes in many things...but of the things I do...I believe in you." Daenerys smiled a warm feeling in her chest. Reassurance and confidence filling her once more. "You also seem to believe in my DragonKeepers, especially a red-headed one" She teased.

Tyrion shook his head, but Daenerys could note the small tug of his lips in a smile. "I believe in the Lady Dilis, not because of her hair or features but because she had sound evidence." Daenerys chuckled and turned back towards the door. "I believe I made the right decision, making them my DragonKeepers, do you agree with my decision?" she asked him.

Tyrion turned and stared off towards the door as he contemplated his answer. "If you did not, we would have two people-possible enemies- who would have four larger and stronger dragons so yes, I think you did marvelously, you were able to inspire devotion out of two people you had previously imprisoned and threatened, not something to be taken lightly."

Daenerys nodded if her Hand agreed then she felt confident that her decision was right. "To be honest I am still having a hard time understanding all of it, their life...their story it still all seems to be a work of fiction...and yet here they are" she expounded. Tyrion nodded his head once "Here they are, so let us take the time to get to know them...to understand them...learn from them, and then no longer will they seem like these mysterious strangers cloaked in secrets." He suggested punctually.

Daenerys nodded agreeing "We shall, although its a bit difficult when we are at war with the dead" she lamented. Tyrion shrugged "true, but I imagine the dead aren't much for conversation, so in the meantime, talk with them...take the first step, ask them about their lives, their hobbies, you will find you have much in common with them."

Daenerys found herself interested in what Tyrion said "Such as?" she asked out loud. Tyrion walked over and refilled his cup, thankfully it looked to be water. "She lost her mother, the same way you did, her father Jovern, was killed by Robert Baratheon, she hates Cersei, and she has a great fascination for dragons, all of which could be just the same for you" he replied.

Daenerys pursed her lips and mulled over what he said then decided to turn and deposit herself in a nearby chair. Tyrion carried over a platter of slices of bread on the side was a garnish of fruit preserves. To the side of the bread was a few pieces of cooked bacon. Daenerys took a piece of bread with an orange garnish on it, she brought it to her lips and took a bite, sweet and delicate the smooth flavor of orange zest, it brought back distant memories of her childhood, she closed her eyes and for the time being, let the world fall away.

 _Sigligon Dilis_  

Quickly Siglgion and Korb made their way to their wagon, thankfully they were mostly unbothered by people which assisted them greatly in their goal. Sigligon used some water from her flask to clean off her face and she quickly combed through her hair before braiding and bring it up into a ponytail on the top of her head, while a small amount of it fell loose down the back of her neck.

She changed into her armor, the cuirass dyed a dark reddish-brown while the Targaryen sigil sat proudly on her breast. Once more her red cloak donned her shoulders, she took comfort in pinning her fathers Targaryen pin to her right shoulder before exiting the wagon. Korb had disappeared leaving her alone, she frowned and scanned the area looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Are you the woman who rode the white dragon?" A voice asked from behind her. Sigligon snapped her head to the direction of the voice. Just beside their wagon was a small-statured girl, she wore dark clothing, a peculiar cape drawn over her shoulders lined with fur that parted to reveal a simplistic gray jerkin. At her waist was a belt that had a small thin blade strapped to it as well as an ornate dagger.

She had mousey brown hair pulled back tightly and dark gray eyes. She had large expressive eyes that studied her intently. Sigligon turned towards her and nodded "I am, the dragon's name is Tempimere...but we call her 'Old One'" The girl walked closer to her, arms set behind her back. She moved confidently, an eyebrow quirked as she regarded Sigligon.

"You serve Daenerys then?" Sigligon was taken aback by the bluntness. The girl waited, her slate-gray eyes boring into Sigligon, something was unnerving about her, even though she was so small she had this presence to her. "I am the Queen's head DragonKeeper, but I am here to help the North as well." 

The girl nodded "that's a good thing then." Sigligon waited unsure if their conversation was over or not. "Where did you keep the dragons? How did you keep them?" the girl asked suddenly, a child-like curiosity creeping into her eyes. Sigligon cleared her throat. "I am sorry..." she began searching with how to address the girl. 

"Arya" she quipped "Arya Stark," she said simply. Sigligon's eyes widened "Oh, forgive me, My Lad-" "Don't call me that, it's just Arya." She interrupted Sigligon before she finished. Sigligon paused the conversation befuddling her more and more. Taking a moment Sigligon took a breath "Forgive me, Arya...but I am not at liberty to release such details, all I can say is there are places in Westeros that are hidden in plain sight."

Arya regarded her answer for a few moments before shrugging. "Fair enough, but why wait until now? With dragon's like that you could have taken the seven kingdoms a long time ago." Arya commented tilting her head in question. Sigligon frowned "Dragon's are not weapons of war, they are living creatures, aside from that it is not my place to take Westeros."

Arya considered her answer for a few moments. "I suppose your right..." Arya trailed off for a moment "Do you think I could see one? Up close?" she asked quickly, her eyes brightening in excitement. Sigligon chewed her bottom lip. "I...you would have to ask the Queen's permission, apologies again." Arya sighed deflated "Fine, I guess I will have to see if Jon will talk to her for me." Arya commented dryly.

Sigligon tilted her head in confusion. "You are Jon's sister, surely you could ask her directly?" Sigligon suggested. Arya shook her head "No, Sansa told me not to speak to her in case I offend her, I do that a lot you see, not very  _proper_ most of the time" Arya explained spitting out the word 'proper' as if it had a bad taste in her mouth.

Sigligon nodded agreeing with her "I have that problem as well, I was taught the proper etiquette for most things, but I didn't have to use it for years, now I am finding I have to ask permission for everything." Sigligon said waving her hand in exasperation. Arya smirked "I had to take care of myself for a long while, made my way to Bravos and back even, found that being proper just wastes time" commented off handily.

Sigligon was impressed with her, although she had some quirks she was pleasant to talk to for the most part. "It was nice meeting you Arya, but I have to return to my Queen, perhaps later I could take you out to see the dragons," Sigligon mentioned, Arya's face beamed and she nodded "I would like that Sigligon."

Sigligon was taken aback "How did you know my name?" she exclaimed. Arya grinned coyly. "You and Korb are all people talk about, the strange Dragon Riders, of course, I know your name." Sigligon was stunned and glanced about studying the people around her going on their day to day business. All of them glanced over in her direction at least once or twice, over the far corner she could see a group of Northern soldiers gesturing to her as well.

Sigligon's cheeks burned and she felt her face get hot. Instinctively she pulled her cloak up and over her head attempting to hide. Arya frowned "Sorry," she said genuinely. Sigligon shook her head "It's fine, I...thank-you for letting me know." Arya turned and gave a small wave before walking away heading towards the smithy.

Sigligon sighed and turned, she began to walk towards the castle, ignoring the looks people gave her as she went by. Suddenly a familiar scree filled the air around her. She glanced upwards, it was Tikoros! She laughed and watched as the bird flew happy circles around her. She lowered her gaze and looked for Korb. 

Korb stood a few feet away smiling as he watched Tikoros. The bird seemed happy to be returned to his master once more. Sigligon held out her arm ad Tikoros descended and dropped down onto it. Her arm wavered momentarily at the sudden weight of the falcon but she smiled and scratched his head and under his chin, being a chick raised in captivity Tikoros was more friendly then the wild-born Falcon's so he enjoyed the scratches greatly.

Sigligon turned and held Tikoros out for Korb to take. Korb took the bird and placed him on his shoulder "That is where you are staying" Korb stated as he did so. Korb glanced to her, suddenly his blue eyes became dark with worry. "What is wrong?" He asked suddenly. Sigligon shook her head "It's nothing, we should go back to Daenerys."

Korb paused for a moment "Our Queen, yes." he corrected. Sigligon sighed and turned walking back to the keep. Sigligon could feel even more eyes fall on her as she made her way through the halls back to her Queen's quarters. Finally, they reached Daenery's room, an Unsullied guard on the outside nodded to the both of them and opened the door for them.

Siglgion thanked him and walked in remembering to remove her hood as she did. Korb walked in behind her Tikoros still resting on his shoulder. In the room, there was Daenerys, Tyrion, Ser Jorah, Missandei, Grayworm and one man she did not know. He was tall, portly and bald, and had an effeminate feel to him, he regarded her with certain scrutiny.

Most of them sat in chairs, two other empty chairs were seated nearby facing towards Daenerys. Daenerys waved her hand to them "Please sit, we have much to discuss." Daenerys eyes flickered to Tikoros on Korb's shoulder. Sigligon darted a glance back to see Tikoros rubbing himself against Korb's cheek. Daenerys pursed her lips but did not say anything about the bird.

Sigligon and Korb sat down. Daenerys smiled "Hungry? there are some bread and sausages left." Sigligon nodded, Tyrion got up and picked up a nearby platter off the table and extended it towards her. Sigligon grabbed several pieces of bread and two sausages. She began to eat slowly, not wanting to seem improper. 

Korb, Korb, on the other hand, took the entire platter from Tyrion and began to stuff bread into his two pieces at a time. Tikoros began clicking his beak at Korb. Who absently plucked a sausage, took a bite, lifted it to Tikoros who ripped off a large piece and then Korb stuffed the remainder into his mouth. Mortified Sigligon buried her face in her hand.

Daenerys seemed to disregard Korb's poor table manners. She smiled pleasantly at them. "There will be a meeting in the main hall in an hour or so, I thought now would be the best time to fully equate ourselves with each other." She stated meeting Sigligon's eyes. Sigligon nodded as she swallowed her bread, licking the remains of strawberry preserves from her fingers.

"Very well" Sigligon began "Where would you like the begin?" she asked. Daenerys turned and motioned towards the bald man behind her. "You have met all my advisors except for Lord Varys, he is my master of whispers." Sigligon recognized the name, from long ago memories, she recalled her father saying Lord Varys, 'the Spider' who was always trying to find their secrets out.

"The Spider," Sigligon said out loud. Varys nodded "You are correct, that is my name, how have you come to know of it?" Sigligon frowned "My father spoke of you, you were always trying to figure us out." Varys was emotionless. "It appears I failed in that endeavor." Sigligon shrugged "My father was good at what he did." 

Varys frowned then, "So it seems." Sigligon chewed her lower lip for a few moments. Korb offered her the few remaining pieces of bread, Sigligon waved them off, Korb took them all and began munching on them loudly. Daenerys spoke up "Tell me about the dragons, who are they? where did you raise them?" Sigligon glanced to Daenerys, took a deep breath then began her tale.

She told them how her ancestors first hatched Tempimere in secret, how the Roost was built, about the chains that crossed over the valley, the elevator carved into the cliffside, the large peaked cliffs around them that enclosed and kept them safe. She told them about the tunnel and how it led right under the streets of King Landing, a face that piqued Tyrion's interest.

She spoke about the sacking of King's Landing, how her Korb and Jovern escaped that day carrying eggs and young dragon hatchlings to safety. How they lived in that two-story house, all the pen's they built, the garden they planted, the animals they took care of. She reminisced about when the dragons were only hatchlings, how they raised them by hand.

Sometimes there was paused for further questions but for the most part, Sigligon was free to talk, on occasion Korb would join in. They explained how they kept tabs on Daenerys and her brother through Sigligon's great-Uncle across the sea. They talked about the dragons, how they watched them grow up, their personalities, how they kept them fed and happy.

But mostly Sigligon would tell stories of her father, his laugh, his wisdom, the things he taught her, how perfect he seemed to have been. All the while all of them listened, becoming accustomed to Sigligon and Korb. Daenerys would sometimes talk about similar experiences she had to raise her dragons when they first began to light their food, the first time they flew, the first time she rode Drogon.

Eventually, her conversation drifted into talking about Missandei, how they first met, and how Daenerys tricked Missandei's previous owner into basically giving Daenerys the Unsullied. That conversation eventually evolved into explaining Unsullied and their culture, Grayworm adding comments when he felt comfortable.

The conversation seemed to continue for almost two hours before there was a knock on the door. They opened it and King Jon entered, his hand following behind him dutifully as ever. Ser Davos gave Sigligon and Korb a grin. Sigligon smiled back and curtsied to Jon's entry. "Apologies for the intrusion, I thought it best if bot our courts enter at the same time." 

Daenerys stood and nodded "That is a good idea, show both our people we are still fighting this together." Jon nodded to her. Sigligon waited with the rest while Daenerys and Jon spoke. Daenerys glanced around to her party before she folded her hands in front of her and made her way to leave the room. Jon and Ser Davos parted to let all of them follow Daenerys.

Down the hall, they walked, Jon and Daenerys upfront, behind them, was their Hands after Ser Davos was a portly man, larger than Varys with a thick mop of brown hair. Trailing behind this man was another man dressed in mostly furs wild red hair billowed from his head along with a large scruffy beard, he glanced around with half-crazed bright blue eyes.

The direwolf Ghost joined them later on down the hall. Siglgion walked behind Ser Jorah and Missandei, Korb followed behind her. Grayworm had left to see to his men and the spider had disappeared into his web. Into the main hall, they walked in a single file procession. The room was packed with Lords, soldiers, Wildling men, men of the Night's Watch, a few small groups of Unsullied and Dothraki and many servants to serve ale and food to them.

Sigligon glanced to the head table, there a woman with a deep auburn hair that fell in razor straight strands sat. Her eyes were a light blue, not as pale as Korb's but neither were they as a deep blue as herself, but she was a beauty that was for certain. There was murmuring as Sigligon and Korb entered. Sigligon felt herself pale as they did.

At a small table in front was a man seated in a strange contraption of a chair, Sigligon was unable to get a close look at it for long. Instead, she was directed by Ser Jorah to stand with him and Missandei at the wall to the left of the fireplace. Jon and Daenerys took their places at the head table, they stood and waited for the 'court' to silence.

Ghost already lay curled at Jon's feet, with a small grimace Jon sat down, Daenerys followed suit. On either side of them stood their Hands, Tyrion and Ser Davos overlooking all who sat in the room. Jon leaned forward and with his thickly accented voice he said: "We have survived the first night, but there is many more to come, we need to plan for what lies ahead, who wishes to speak first?" and with that, the meeting began.

 


	32. Chapter 32 - The Meeting & Hunt -

_Sigligon Dilis_

She stood silently beside Ser Jorah, to her right stood Korb. She looked out over the entire hall, glum faces all huddled and pressed in close to each other. It was silent for a few moments before anyone spoke up. An older man, dressed in armor who also wore a tan overcoat embellished with a strange square with runes and dots. He spoke slowly but firmly. "Your Graces, the Knights of the Vale stood their ground and fought bravely, however, I feel that we will need an additional fortification to help keep the tide of undead from flanking us and pinning us against the trench line."

Some small nods of agreements from the nearby lords, Sigligon like all in the room glanced towards the King and Queen, she could only see the backs of their heads now. Momentarily she was distracted by the intricate braids that Daenerys had. Jon paused for a moment before speaking, his voice not as loud or as strong as before but still commanding. "If we do that, you will be pinned from the font and no way to fall back, it would also limit your mobility, what if the undead attempt to flank Winterfell entirely?" the hall filled with mutterings at Jon's words.

The Lord frowned "That is a possibility as well your Grace, perhaps instead we place breaks in the trenches? Enough so that if needed we can exit the trenches when needed." Voices called out in the agreement with this plan. Jon nodded slowly then turned to Ser Davos. "Do we have the supplies?"  Ser Davos  nodded "yes your Grace, wood is aplenty here in the North, and our smithy had assured me that we still have several tonnes of DragonGlass left, if need be we can always go and mine more if the Queen allows us to." Heads turned to Daenerys, Daenerys nodded "I'll allow it."

Jon turned back to the man who still stood patient. "Very well Lord Royce, you have your answer, the builders have been repairing the trenches all morning, let them know of our plans and have as many able-bodied men of your assist them." Lord Royce bowed and turned to the young lad next to him issuing his orders in the lad's ear before the lad went scampering off to report. "Speaking of supplies," a monotonous voice said out loud, all attention turned to the red-haired woman seated at the table. "Winterfell's food stores should last our men for years, but with the addition of our allies and with the as I have heard  _six_  dragons, our supplies will not last more than a half year."

There was an uneasy silence, eyes fell on Daenerys and Jon. "Once the dead are defeated the Northern houses can return to their homes it will ease the strain on Winterfell's supplies," Jon stated leaning forward to catch the red-haired woman's eyes. Daenerys turned towards Jon "That is fair to have the Houses return home after the battle, but do not forget that in agreeance to my helping the North, the North is to assist my armies when taking the Iron throne and supporting my claim." There was a loud grumbling rising in the ranks from the Northern side but Jon turned out to his people, due to their sudden hush into silence Sigligon believed that he must have issued one of his intense glares to them.

"The North will honor the pact that we have made with House Targaryen, we swore to support your claim as long as you assist the North against the dead, that is the deal brokered," Jon explained firmly. The Northern Lords uncomfortably shifted in their seats, they could not say anything against their honor. Once more the red-haired woman spoke, "We agreed to assist in House Targaryen's claim, but we did  _not_  agree to empty  _our_  stores for  _our_  people to feed her dragons, what do dragons even eat?" she asked out loud, it was clear this woman was very vocal about this topic.

To Sigligon the question of what to the dragon's even eat felt open, that anyone could answer, her voice piped up "Fish mostly or meat." But she was wrong to assume she had the liberty to answer the question, all heads and eyes snapped to her. For a moment she felt paralyzed. Korb instinctively clapped a hand on her shoulder and gripped it tightly. She should have not spoken. The red-haired woman seated lifted a brow "And you are?" she regarded Sigligon casually. Sigligon glanced to Korb then back to the intimidating Northern girl.

Suddenly her throat felt dry and her tongue thick. All those eyes, staring at her scrutinizing her, all she wanted to do was run and hide, she did not like so much attention. Her heart raced, could they hear it? How long had it been since this woman asked her a question? A moment, an hour? she stammered out "I...uh..." she trailed off and coughed clearing her throat. By the gods why did she have to speak how could she be so foolish, how did she get out of this? Thankfully, Daenerys stepped in, her cool voice calmly answered: "She is my Head DragonKeeper, the Lady Sigligon Dilis, forgive her Lady Sansa she is unused to addressing a court."

Sansa turned away, instantly Sigligon felt relief flooding her, she felt light-headed for a second blackness tinging on the edges of her eyes, Korb must have somehow felt this for his arm that had once been on her shoulder propped itself under her arm to keep her standing. Sigligon reached her other hand across and latched onto it tightly. Sansa spoke next "Fish, Winterfell is not a seaport, where do you expect us to get fish?" Sansa asked Daenerys. Sigligon's mind thought back to the map of Westeros she had remembered studying when she was a child, there was ocean all around Westeros if they flew Northwest they could reach the Bay of Ice where Bear island resided.

Daenerys paused, she did not know the geography of Westeros as well as others here in this room. Sigligon swallowed away her fear, she closed her eyes and breathed in calmly. She pictured herself on the back of Mele, flying high above the land, she felt confidence surging within her, the fanning of flames that sparked a wildfire.

She opened her eyes and stepped forward confidently answering the question and addressing all in the room. "The Bay of Ice is only a few hours journey on dragon-back, I and Korb have taken dragons fishing before we can catch many with them." All eyes shifted back to her, she felt her self deflate only a little, but once again she felt remembered the memory of Mele's scales beneath her fingers, she concentrated on that, pretending he was in this very room with her. "You can fish with dragons?" Jon asked confused. Siglgion nodded "Yes, it takes some training and can be complicated...but it can be done."

Mild interest began to spread through the court. Sansa frowned, Daenerys looked over to her, her violet eyes looking darkening in the light of the hall. "That maybe, but we cannot afford to take dragons to the sea to fish when the army of undead are upon us," Daenerys commented. Sigligon nodded "You are correct, however, the dragons do need to be fed, with the Queen's permission I and Korb would take Kasta and Mele on a hunt, we promise to bring back enough prey to feed the dragons and to contribute to the breadlines of the troops."

The hall waited for Daenerys answer. With a simple nod Daenerys waved them off, "You are head DragonKeeper, you do what you must to care for the dragons." Sigligion bowed to Daenerys, quickly her and Korb walked out and down the hall, she ignored the looks they were given as the left. Sigligon was just happy to leave and head towards Mele.

When they left the Hall, a shadow came up next to her. She turned to see Arya Stark, Arya gave her a small grin. Sigligon couldn't help but smile back, as they walked Sigligon turned her head back to look at Korb. "Korb, this is Arya Stark, do not call her by her title, she prefers just Arya." Korb nodded understanding her instruction. "Hello" he greeted her informally. "You're going to the dragons?" Arya asked Sigligon nodded already anticipating Arya's question. "I am, you may come with us, but you are not allowed near them without one of us or the Queen, is that understood?" 

Arya nodded "Of course, I wouldn't be so foolish." Sigligon nodded "Good" then the three of them continued on their way, they stopped at their wagon to pick up their bows and quivers, while in there Arya dipped her head in and nodded towards Sigligon's special weapon. "What is that?" Sigligon looked down to her weapon she usually called it a staff, but that wasn't the right name for it, it was something entirely different a combination of weapons, in the middle the haft was wooden, and on the edges metal blades like ones found on glaives, on one end the point of the glaive was longer and curved wider, the metal on the inside of the cure dull, she used this to 'hook' unto things.

Sigligon lifted the weapon and held it aloft "It is something of my invention." She explained handing it over to Arya. Arya took it gingerly, she then stepped out and began to twirl it slowly, getting used to how the staff worked. Sigligon watched her, she moved the weapon like a dancer, fluid and calm. Arya seemed to be very good with weapons, although she had just picked up Sigligon's weapon she was already attempting to do more complex twirls.

Around and around she went moving with the weapon stepping forward with it but she couldn't quite get the hang of the balance, because of the hook on the one end the weapon didn't flow balanced in the air, it wobbled slightly. "What is the point of this point?" Arya asked holding the weapon out towards her. Sigligon smiled and took it from Arya.

With lightning speed she ducked forward and hooked the end around Arya's ankle, she pulled it forward while also moving to the right, effectively tossing Arya forward like a sack of potatoes. Usually when Siglgion did this on Korb, the person would fly forward and land face-first into the ground and flounder around like a fish on land, but Arya did not, instead, she hit the ground with the flat of her hands and rolled end over end before jumping to her feet a beaming grin on her face.

Sigligon bowed to Arya "That is what it is for." Arya giggled "It's very interesting, not my style but it had its uses." she commented still grinning. Sigligon walked back to the wagon and returned her weapon. Korb stood by patiently and eyebrow quirked. Arya piped up "You know you could have the servants bring your stuff in, so you don't have to come back to this wagon all the time." 

Sigligon shrugged as the three of them began making their way towards the gate. "We haven't had the time, besides my ingredients and books need to be moved with care," she explained to the young Stark. Arya walked easily her arms crossed behind her. "Ingredients for what?" she asked innocently. Sigligon waved her hand "Most everything, I trained myself in herbology and alchemy." 

Arya nodded "That helps you with dragons then?" Sigligon nodded "In ways, it helps me heal them, but I did it more for the fun of it, I love learning what goes with what, how things can react and change into completely new things." Arya nodded, they were now through the side gate, a large group of guards kept watch over the field as the builders hammered away at fixing the trenches.

The wind was calm, and the sky was clear, Sigligon languished in the sun it felt good beaming down on her face. She scanned the area for the dragons, it looked as if they had not moved, in fact, they look like they still slept. Sigligon made her way towards them, the men in the field kept a very wide berth of the dragons and whispered amongst themselves as she, Arya, and Korb passed by.

Arya began to move faster in excitement. "Now Arya, you must promise to listen and do as we say, dragons can be temperamental, especially when they are hungry and just awoken." Arya paused and sighed her shoulder dropping in deflation. Sigligon hated to disappoint the girl, she was very much the same when she was young.

They walked closer to the dragons, Sigligon could see Old One sleeping on the bottom of the pile, as usual, Kastamere and Meledarys hanging off her while Rhealla was curled beside Kastamere. Rheagal had woke up and moved closer to Drogon, cowering beside him, as both smaller dragons lay several yards away from the four larger sleeping dragons.

Sigligon kept her distance away from Drogon and Rheagal, both dragons looked to be nervous and stressed about the situation they were in so Sigligon did not want to cause any more. She turned and motioned for Arya to wait with Korb. She moved forward by herself and calmly approached her dragons. Drogon and Rheagal churred out at her and she smiled and greeted them. 

Already she could see Rheagal looked much better from the previous night, he seemed to be taking his injuries in stride. She turned her attention to Mele. The Red King slept soundly his head propped on Old One's shoulder. Sigligon whistled to him quietly, she had a specific whistle for each dragon, Mele's was three fast short sounds.

His nose twitched. Sigligon did it again, she saw his tail begin to slide against the ground as he ever so slowly opened his bright red and gold eyes. Sigligon grinned and beamed up at him. "Hungry? Let's go  _Arghugon_ " she sang out. Mele lifted his head from Old One, an action that caused her to stir in her slumber.

Mele turned towards her purring loudly. Sigligon beamed up at the dragon and ran her hands along his nose and mouth. When she was finished greeting Mele she turned and called out to Kasta. Kasta perked his head up and bounded over the top of Old One. Old One woke momentarily growling and snapping playfully at Kasta.

Kasta danced over to Sigligon, pressing his nose into her hand like he always did. She chuckled to herself then spoke to them " _Garon"_ she commanded. Both began to follow her away from Old One and Rhealla. Drogon and Rheagal sniffed the air and called out curiously towards Kasta and Mele, but her dragons ignored them, they were more occupied with the want for food.

While still walking in front of them Sigligon did her best to keep the dragons behind her, their wide sweeping steps taken with their wings clawing against the ground made it a difficult task. Arya was staring wide-eyed and mouth opened up at the dragons. Korb instinctively put an arm out in front of her just in case. 

Sigligon looked up to the two dragons "We will leave to hunt soon, but first someone would like to say hello." Sigligon motioned for Arya to come forward. "Walk slowly and put your hand out," she instructed calmly. She could sense Arya's anticipation, she had most likely been waiting to do this since she was so young, to finally see a dragon and have the chance to be near it.

Kastamere reached down first and sniffed her hand, he backed away slightly but seeing that both Sigligon and Korb were relaxed with Arya he eased back down again. Arya held still her face completely enthralled in Kastamere. Finally, Kastamere permitted her to touch him, "Just let your hand rest on his skin, for now when I tell you, you can move it." Arya glanced to her then gave the smallest dip of her chin as a nod. 

Kastamere glanced to Sigligon. Sigligon cooed up to him "It's fine Kasta, this is Arya." Kasta glanced down towards Arya "Okay Arya" she said keeping her eyes on Kastamere. Slowly Arya moved her small pale hand up and down. Kastamere stiffened but after a few long seconds, he relaxed. Sigligon sighed and took joy in watching the happiness on Arya's face.

The wind blew gently and the sun shone down and lit up her face, her gray pools that were her eyes shimmered. Mele leaned down, seeing Kasta receive attention made him jealous and he demanded his tribute. Arya slowly lifted her hand to Mele. The red dragon gave her one sniff then pushed his chin into her hand.

Arya was now touching two dragons. She laughed out loud and looked to Sigligon. "They are so friendly!" Sigligon chuckled. "Trust me, they are not so friendly to their enemies." Arya beamed and glanced up at Mele. "They are both so beautiful, I always saw pictures in the books...but...they are so much more different."

Sigligon nodded "They are much better the how they are told in the books." Arya studied Sigligon for a moment still touching both dragons. "I always begged for my father to read me the story of Aegon the Conqueror, not because of him, but because of his sister Visenya...she rode a dragon called Vhagar." Sigligon watched Arya's face as she spoke, it was obvious Visenya was a hero of hers.

"Vhagar was said to be a powerful and beautiful, I only wish I could have met her." Sigligon commented Arya looked to her "Vhagar was a girl?" Sigligon nodded "Yes, is that something you did not know?" Arya shook her head "No, they didn't mention that in the books, only said she was so large you could ride a horse down her gullet."

Sigligon chuckled "Yes well, they are large creatures." Arya stepped away "I should go back, thank-you for this Lady Dilis." Sigligon shook her head "Sigligon is fine Arya." Arya smirked, "Good luck on your hunt." Sigligon tipped her head "Keep the dead away while we are gone won't you?" she stated as Arya began to walk away, Arya grinned "I'll try to save you some." She chided before beginning to jog back to Winterfell.

Sigligon shook her head as she watched Arya's figure disappear. She turned to Korb who had already approached Kastamere and was showering him with attention. Tikoros had left Korb's shoulder and was now flying in the sky around them calling out to nothing in particular. Sigligon strode over to Mele's shoulder and began to climb up unto his back using the straps of the saddle to aid her.

"We should probably remove the saddles when we get back, let the dragons' skin breathe for a bit." She commented over to Korb. Korb was clamoring up into Kastamere. He settled in his seat and was beginning to strap his legs and thighs in, Sigligon did the same once finished she nodded to Korb. Korb nodded back and with the simplest act of grabbing unto Mele's bright red frills, he was off, lurching forward as he built up speed to launch himself into the air.

Sigligon loved the feeling of his body leaping over the ground, and then the eventual take off, the brief moment where you dipped down before his wings furled out and in a massive feat of strength propelled himself up higher into the sky. Up they went the crisp winter air stinging their cheeks. Sigligon looked over to Korb who flew languidly on Kastamere, it had been months since the both of them had flown together.

Mele surged forward he knew he was about to go hunt and he loved the thrill of it. Sigligon picked up her bow and scanned for an area to hunt. The flew eastwards over the top of Winterfell, the people down there scurrying about their day to day business. On the eastern side of Winterfell, the remnants of many pyres still lingered, the smoke wafting up into the sky, the scent of burnt flesh stinging Sigligon's nose.

She moved Mele around the smoke and they dipped down closer to the ground so they could scan for herds of animals. They had to fly little ways into the Northern wilds. The north was beautiful, evoking a sense of pristine wonder. For miles and miles the land stretched, thick lush forests and in the distance rolling hills, the entire world seemed to fold out in front of her, like the edges of a map unfurling revealing more and more, the world was so much bigger then what she had read about, the landmasses so much more beautiful, no words could describe them.

The scope and scale of everything were leaps and bounds greater than anything she had ever imagined. Momentarily she forgot about her task, instead, she enjoyed the feeling of fresh air blowing in her face, the feeling of flight as her dragon rode beneath her, the glinting off his scales in a dazzling display of amber and gold.

Korb yelled out to her, his voice muffled by the wind. He pointed downwards, she followed his finger Sigligon's jaw dropped massive herds of animals were moving through the snow. Hundreds of deer leaping through the snow gracefully, behind them massive elk plowing their way through the deep snow, small packs of boars struggled their way following behind the herds of deer.

Sigligon and Korb instantly descended downward, she could here Mele's rumble of excitement. Sigligon drew her bow and knocked an arrow. The animals seemed oblivious to them, they were all running away from something worse, could they sense the Night King was that it? It was the only thing Sigligon could think of as the edged closer.

Mele roared and swooped down cutting a path in front of a large portion of the herd. The animals panicked and began leaping away from the flames. Sigligon sat straight and pulled back her arrow, taking account for the wind and her movements she then let her arrow fly. It struck her first target a doe, she the knocked another arrow and shot down a buck.

There was so many deer and so great in number were they that she could fire wildly and strike one down. So with great enthusiasm she knocked drew and fired, starting up a rhythm. In a matter of moments, eight deer lay dead in the snow, their blood staining it crimson as they fell into death throes. Mele swooped down and landed with a thunder crash, it jarred Sigligon's teeth but she readjusted and unstrapping herself slid off Mele's back. 

She worked her way through the snow, it was piled nearly to her waist in some areas but she forced her way to the deer. Mele had already gotten to one and was already setting it on fire before consuming it, most likely he would eat one or two more before being satisfied. Sigligon killed off the remaining deer then began the arduous task of carrying the deer to Mele and strapping them to his back to carry.

One by one she worked her way through the blanket of snow, the heavy deer hauled over her shoulder's as she staggered beneath their weight. Once she got to Mele she set the carcass on the ground before tying a rope around it, she would then climb up unto Mele's back and heave the deer's body up like sailors would raise a rowboat.

The task was painstaking and hard work but she did what she needed to do. All the while she did this Mele ate nearby deer. In the end, he ate three in total, which left Sigligon with five to place on his back. When she finished with the deer she made sure they were secured with rope then she mounted and flew Mele into this sky.

The herds had not gotten far while she and Mele were distracted. This time she went for elk, the great lumbering beasts were nearly a thousand pounds of meaty flesh they by themselves would prove to be a good meal for even Old One. They swooped downwards upon them, ad Sigligon picked out the oldest looking ones of the bunch. Needing four shots each she took down two old elks, their piercing bellows echoed through the area.

When it came to loading the elks up on Mele's back she actually used Mele to help push them up, it was always hard to get a dragon to do this, most of the time they would just want to eat what she was trying to push up here but he seemed to understand her intention this time around. Once both elks had been placed and strapped on Mele and she took to the sky a third time.

Sigligon searched for Korb and Kastamere and saw the two circling around. She flew up near him, Mele and Kastamere biting playfully at once another. Sigligon looked over and Korb's catch, he must have hunted all of the boar down for Kastamere's back was littered with bloody big bodies. Sigligon was impressed, Korb even managed to take down two deer as well. 

Korb admired Sigligon's elk giving her a nod of approval. Sigligon shrugged and grinned as they turned their dragons back towards Winterfell. Kastamere surged forward goading Mele into a race, but Sigligon was not having it, they needed to conserve energy for the fights to come. Instead, Sigligon swooped down just over the tops of the forest she loved watching as the trees shuddered in their wake.

As she passed over a sudden swarm of birds scattered from the forest below. This was no ordinary swarm for a few moments her vision was clouded by feathers. Geese, grouse, pheasants, doves, pigeons, cardinals, finches, any birds one could think of fled before Meledarys wings. Sigligon took this opportunity and brought out her bow. 

She shot at the larger targets such as geese and turkeys, making sure to hit these birds in the head. Once she struck down a bird she would sweep Meledarys over to catch the carcass as it fell. Seeing her good fortune Korb immediately joined her, riding on Kastamere he shot down bird after bird. Eventually, she and he had somehow gotten themselves into a shooting challenge, each one seeing how many the other could takedown.

They competed ruthlessly, scores of birds fell to their unrelenting arrows. But eventually, Sigligon conceded not wanting to drag on the competition for she knew she needed to return and feed the other dragons. They both let their dragons fly up and drift gently on the wind as they secured and counted their kills.

Sigligon glanced over to Korb "I have twelve geese, six turkeys, and four pheasants." Korb frowned "I have ten geese, seven turkeys, and five pheasants." Sigligon sighed, great a bloody tie. "We'll do round two later?" he suggested to her from Kastamere's back. Sigligon grinned and nodded as she pointed Mele into the direction of Winterfell, the dragons were hungry.

_Sansa Stark_

Sansa stood overlooking the nearly empty courtyard, the makeshift hospital and healing tents had all just been moved over into to where the great hall and sept was, this allowed the main courtyard area to be free for movement. Arya stood next to her blathering on once more about the dragons and Sigligon. Sansa frowned, it seemed like everyone was talking of the strange red-haired DragonKeeper.

Sigligon was a mystery to Sansa, she had not met her until just this morning. Yet nearly everyone else she knew, Jon, Arya, Tyrion all of them talked about her and her 'brother' Korb. She couldn't blame them though, a woman who has been raising four dragons in Westeros for all these years, of course, there would be talk, Sansa was just unsure of how she felt about the talk.

What did this mean for them? This Sigligon seemed nice, but she was now sworn to Daenerys, if the North cut ties with Daenerys they would have  _Six_ dragons to deal with. Sansa frowned,  _'maybe that's what Daenerys wants, she doesn't want people having the freedom to say no, who would dare when she has six dragons.'_ Sansa thought to herself.

 _'Not like we could cut ties with her, not the way Jon looks at her'_ she thought to herself. She rolled her eyes men, they were all the same it seemed. Sansa felt ill thinking back to Ramsey and what he had done, could it have been two months ago? She was glad he was dead, festering away half-digested in some pile of dogshit where he belonged.

Sansa turned to her little sister "Is there nothing else you want to talk about?" Sansa asked interrupting Arya. Arya glanced to her raising a brow judgementally. "...No, not really what else is there?" Sansa grinned "What about Gendry Waters?" Arya glanced away quickly pretending not to care, but Sansa could tell she had been in Kings Landing for a lot of her life and she had learned everyone's tell.

"He's a friend." Arya stated Sansa chuckled "A friend, that you stare at longingly?" Arya glared at Sansa but a light pink dusting covered her cheeks. "I was admiring his handiwork, he's good with his hands!" Sansa laughed out loud now, teasing Arya mercilessly as Arya scoffed and yelled at her to shut up, just like sisters are to act.

"Okay, I'm sorry I will stop bringing it up, I just wanted to talk about something other than..." Sansa's voice trailed off as a dragon's scream came from overhead. Arya whipped her head over and up as they watched two dragons come barreling out of the sky, one a bright blue like the sea the other a flaming red and gold. 

Arya nearly jumped and ran away from Sansa without a word more. Sansa was left alone staring absently towards the dragons that now were landed inside the courtyard. The two DragonKeepers were on their backs tossing off freshly killed carcasses to be used by the cooks. Briefly, a wave of nausea hit Sansa staring at those corpses so much so she felt the urge to be sick but she just managed to keep it held back.

She glanced down and saw Daenerys Targaryen walk with her guards headed towards the dragons and her Keepers, briefly Sansa could see the flicker of potential, Daenerys carried herself like a Queen, a true Queen, and although the North was still unsure about fighting for her claim, if she continued to provide and help them as she did, eventually the North would turn to support her instead of fighting for the independence that they had been.

Sansa frowned, there was a possibility of this all being one large ruse to gain the North's trust, she never wanted Jon to go and parley with Daenerys, she only agreed because they needed that bloody Dragonglass. Now here Sansa was the Lady of Winterfell, her bastard brother the King in the North and Daenerys Targaryen with all her titles, armies and dragons trying to keep things together as they had been.

The North could have been free by now, serving and protecting their people, having nothing to do with the seven kingdoms, but now it felt like they were being shanghaied back into the thick of it, all the oaths and pledges to people who scoffed and thought them, wild simpletons. She remembered the sneers when she was in Kings Landing, the barbed complements  _'My you are so beautiful for a Northerner' 'such lovely embroidery for a Northerner' 'Your hair and face is thankfully more Tully than Stark.'_

Comments like this made her seethe, she was Sansa Stark, daughter of Eddard Stark, this was the home she fought for, maybe not with sword and shield but she used her other talents and strengths to help assist Jon in taking the keep. They would have all been dead if not for her and her connections, and yet they crown Jon. Jealously ate at her heart, yet also guilt.

Jon was her dear brother, he did everything for her, raised armies and left the Night's Watch for her so that she could be home. The home was all that mattered were her with her family what remains of it anyway is what should matter not who wears a symbolic crown. She sighed and shook her head, perhaps she was overthinking things, the important thing was to defeat the dead after that Cersei would need to be overthrown, she did not care who sat on the Iron Throne, only as long as they respected the North and allowed them their freedoms.

Sansa glanced to Daenerys, would she allow that? She felt like she knew Daenerys a little better after their talk in the library but perhaps it was only one conversation of many to keep her guessing to keep her thinking that they were allies...that they were friends. Another wave of nausea hit her, taking her out of her train of thought, this time it was too much and she doubled over the side of the railing and vomited.

"Are you okay My Lady?" A compassionate and feminine voice asked. Sansa turned a sleeve held to her mouth, it was Brienne of Tarth her shieldmaiden. "I...yes, the...carcasses made me sick," Sansa said motioning over to the animals that were being dropped off the dragons back. Brienne walked over to Sansa and looked down at her concerned like a mother would.

"This is not the first time, I have noticed...are you sure you are not?" Brienne glanced down to her stomach. Sansa's blood went cold. She shook her head vigorously, it could be that there is no way the gods would punish her with a child planted from Ramsey, not after what he did to her. She waved Brienne off, "I am sure, if not I can check with the Maester, he will have something for me." 

Brienne spoke quietly to her. "Moon Tea loses its effectiveness the more the child grows, the sooner you take it the easier and better it is." Sansa nodded understanding but still not believing the possibility of her being with child. She did not throw up at all in the morning, it was only with strong smells, it was the most likely illness of the stomach, right?

_Daenerys Targaryen_

Daenerys approached Sigligon and Korb, both stood on the backs of their dragons unloading a few choice animals that they had hunted. A large pile of birds, of varying sizes, turkeys, pheasants, and geese aplenty, loose feathers floating in the air. Korb was pushing off several boar, their bloody and sharp tusks poked from their mouths that still snarled.

Sigligon managed to get two elk it seemed, but only one was being dropped off, she also had a large pile of deer that only one or two were being donated. Sigligon waved to Daenerys and slid down Mele's wing with graceful ease to greet her. "My Queen," she said bowing to her in respect. Daenerys nodded her head "It looks like the hunt fared well." 

Sigligon nodded "Oh yes, the herds are on the move your Grace, we caught them at a good time." Daenerys smiled "Good, I am guessing you are to feed the dragons then?" Sigligon nodded "yes, right after Korb finished unloading, then we shall go deal with feeding and fighting for Alpha" Sigligon answered.

Daenerys paused, taken aback by Sigligon's words. "Fighting for Alpha?" Sigligon nodded vigorously "Yes, Drogon and Rheagal will have to be acclimated into the flight hierarchy, that way we know which order to feed them in the future" she explained, her town serious. Daenerys felt her head begin to spin with all Sigligon said.

Sigligon seemed to notice her confusion. "Come out there with me, I can explain better on the way." With that Sigligon bound up the side of Meledarys before turning ad reaching a hand down for her to grab. Daenerys hesitated but seeing Sigligon's earnestness she decided why not, so she grabbed Sigligon's hand and was pulled up into a sitting position behind Sigligon.

Instinctively Sigligon began to put straps across her legs and buckling them. It was so different for Daenerys to be on another dragon besides Drogon. Mele was much larger, his back wider. The saddle was so different, Daenerys was used to the smooth and rough feeling of scales and frills, now it was padded leather.

Sigligon turned to her "Ready?" she asked. Daenerys nodded gripping to the sides of the saddle Sigligon adjusted Daenerys hands so they were grabbing onto the straps that were buckled across Sigligon's legs. "Let's go!" Then Mele rushed into the sky. Both women giggling at the thrill of flying up into the air on the ack of the Red King.

 

 

 

 


	33. Chapter 33 - Alpha -

_Daenerys Targaryen_

The air tugged at her hair and dress like a wanton lover desperately begging for more. The thrill of lift-off always left her breathless as she surged into the air, the ground disappearing behind her. She had always assumed she was the only one who knew of this feeling, the only one who could understand. But then along came Jon, although not the best rider he could still match pace with her. But now there was Sigligon and from the sound of her raucous laughter, Daenerys could tell she too shared the same feelings as her.

Meledarys was larger than Drogon, a fact that at first scared her she felt threatened by it, in some ways she still did. But she knew Sigligon was loyal, would always be loyal, she lived to serve her, she was the embodiment of her House Motto _'We Serve Dragons'._  Because of this, she felt secure knowing that Sigligon would do everything in her power to make sure her Queen prospered, and that is exactly what Daenerys was intending on doing.

Mele soared over the walls of Winterfell and past the men on the ground. Some still threw themselves to the ground and hid when they passed by, others had grown accustomed for the most part. Seeing the peoples reactions to her dragons always made Daenerys shine with pride, everybody in the world feared them and thought them terrible beasts, even Jon when he first saw them. But to her, they were more than that, raw and primal, the true triumph of nature conjoined with magic, that is what a dragon was.

Once again Daenerys realized she had another to confide these feelings with. She didn't want to admit it out loud but it was nice to have someone who understood dragons like she did, even better she had two. She no longer felt separated from the world, she now had someone to talk to and share her interest with, other people who understood, who could match her emotions and validate them.

They landed with great force, nearby she saw Drogon and Rheagal. Both were awake grooming one another, Rheagal looked good, his eyes were shining bright and he seemed unbothered by his injuries. Sigligon unstrapped herself and walked around her. Daenerys turned her head and watched Sigligon momentarily confused. 

"I have to get the carcasses," Sigligon called back as she walked down the groove between Mele's back spines. Daenerys turned around, unsure of what to do, should she help? Not wanting to be in the way she decided to sit and watch as Sigligon untied the large elk from Mele's back. The elk was massive, it's color like that of charcoal, long shaggy fur and two incredibly large antlers curving up widely, they were thick and crooked reminding Daenerys of tree branches.

Sigligon stood and turned to where the massive white female lay. Daenerys watched on as Sigligon shifted her weight backward slightly before calling out to the ancient being. Tempimere perked at the shrill whistle Sigligon made. Fascinated Daenerys watch the dragon come to Sigligon, it was obvious that there was a certain level of trust and discipline that Sigligon had with all the dragons.

Daenerys wished that she could have that amount of skill, her dragons obeyed her to a degree, but there was a point in time when Daenerys couldn't trust them. Daenerys thoughts drifted back to those dark days, her fragility of her hold on the free city, the doubt that plagued her, the second-guessing. The dragons could sense her inability to lead, and so they acted out.

Daenerys shivered at the memory of that grief-stricken father, how he clutched the charred skeletal remains of his child. How he begged and pleaded. No amount of gold or apologies could return a lost child to a parent, and now...now she knew how that loss felt. It ripped through her, gut-wrenching and numbing, her heart felt cold and heavy even still. 

Daenerys was brought away from her thoughts when she heard a loud churr. It was Tempimere, now at Mele's side. The size difference between the two dragons was alarming and Daenerys' jaw dropped as she compared the two. She stood so much taller, her head nearly twice their size. Her long-aged horns arched back gracefully. Scales glistening in the sun, light dancing off into the snow, she was beautiful, graced in a serenity that only age could install upon a being such as her. 

Daenerys studied Sigligon's face, the way it lit up, a warmth that rose all the way to her eyes. Daenerys herself couldn't stop the small smile tugging at her lips, a warm feeling also building inside her. To see someone be so complete in their craft, so happy in their being was a treat in itself, like watching a great painter compose a piece before her eyes.

She wished she could have a painter at this moment, she longed for someone to paint dragons in their natural state, not as being of fire and brimstone, but as thoughtful and graceful, all their splendor and beauty executed in ways words could not describe but only could paints capture. Tempimere reached forward jaws extended and sunk her many layers of teeth into the elk's carcass picking it up off Mele's back like a mother cat would carry a kitten.

Mele shuffled beneath them but remained in place. Daenerys put a hand down and began to stroke the red dragon, falling in love with the brightness of his scales, tiny flecks of gold could be seen in the layers, the sun gleaming so bright off of him, she could almost see her reflection in his scales. She lifted her head and turned back to Sigligon, she was now whistling to Rhealla.

The smaller dragon came bounding up, happy and excited. Daenerys laughed and shook her head Korb had been right, Rhealla acted more like a puppy than a dragon. Sigligon reached a handout and scratched Rhealla enthusiastically before letting her take a deer carcass. Rhealla dragged it off and went a few meters away with it to dig into her meal. 

Sigligon hauled the last deer up across her shoulders she staggered under the weight but grunted and tossed the carcass off of Mele's back. She then half slid half climbed down his side using his wings like a child would use a slide. Daenerys took this as her cue to dismount. Using the buckles and straps of the saddle to help assist her she climbed down.

Once on the ground, Sigligon joined her carrying the deer once more. "Won't Mele eat?" she asked Sigligon motioning to the red dragon. Sigligon shook her head "He had three deer when we hunted, he will be good for two days at the least" She replied. Daenerys turned her head back to where her two dragons stood, they gazed on hungrily at the food.

Suddenly a noise from the sky made her lookup. A large streak of blue landed roughly nearby. Already Korb was standing up and heading back to the remaining boars. Sigligon and her walked calmly over to Kastamere who eyed the deer intently. "Did he eat when you hunted?" Sigligon called up to Korb as she stood with Daenerys. 

Korb leaned over the side of Kastamere a large boar pulled over easily on one shoulder. "He ate two small boar, I will feed him one more." Sigligon nodded, suddenly the red-haired woman turned to Daenerys "We should feed your boys." Sigligon said gently. Carrying the deer over Sigligon tossed it on the ground in front of Drogon.

Immediately the black dragon lunged forward making both Daenerys and Sigligon leap out of the way as his jaws came crashing down on the deer. He tossed it up into the air with expert ease and with a small quick plume of fire, charred it to a crisp before gulping it whole. He then glanced down at Daenerys obviously still hungry and impatient.

Daenerys cooed softly to Drogon, who softened slightly at her voice but she could tell he was more occupied on the hunger in his belly then her. Sigligon shook her head "he is a very spoiled dragon." Daenerys felt spurred by the comment and turned to Sigligon a frown tugging her lips. Sigligon met her eyes, briefly, alarm blinked over the bright sea blue pools.

"I..I meant no offense, your Grace, I apologize, it is to be expected that the partner to the rightful Queen would be spoiled in some ways," Sigligon explained. Daenerys softened, it was only a comment, and it was a truth, she did spoil her dragons but with good reason. Korb walked up to them "Your Grace" he said in greeting.

Daenerys nodded to the taller man. Easily he tossed a boar at Drogon. This time the dragon caught it in mid-air, and like with the deer he tossed it up and burned it for a moment before devouring it as well. Korb whistled slowly next to her "He sure doesn't waste his time." he commented off handily. Noting the look on her face he wisely lowered his head and apologized before returning to get another boar.

Daenerys waited with Sigligon as Korb gave Drogon one last boar. The black dragon seemed calmer now that he was fed, already he was beginning to groom at his scales. Sigligon and Korb each took a boar and walked it near to Rheagal. Promptly the green dragon began to dig into his meal. There was one boar remaining which Korb was setting down in front of Kastamere, but Drogon it seemed had a different idea altogether.

 Daenerys noticed her larger child perk up when he saw the boar a few feet in front of Kastamere. She could see the way his eyes glinted over in a primal surge as he lurched forward zestfully. "Look out!" the words came screaming out of her throat as Korb expertly dodge rolled out away from Drogon's mighty paws.

He landed on his feet and spread his arms wide putting himself between her and Sigligon and Drogon. Drogon roared out threatening as he put a paw on the small boar, staking his claim. Kastamere rose his neck up raising himself taller than Drogon his neck frills flexing a gurgling thunder in his throat. Drogon roared out again fire tinging in his throat, smoke wafting up from between his lips, his nostril alight in black flames. 

Kastamere hissed, his neck frills brought to their full height, his pupils narrowed into slits. Daenerys was both afraid and confused by the display in front of her. She had seen Drogon and his sibling fight before, but nothing was like this, this was more primal, more serious. She stepped forward calling out to Drogon but both Korb and Sigligon shot their arms out and stopped her. 

Sigligon began tugging at her sleeves guiding her backward. Daenerys turned her head to see Sigligon's face, it was emotionless, only her eyes glinted with any feeling whatsoever, an aura of gravity fell around her. She did not blink nor look away from the dragons, instead, the moved slowly step by step backward.

Korb was a figure of knotted steel, every muscle in his body stood rigid, his brows knitting in concentration while his eyes stared weighted at the two dragons. The air was thick with tension as these two creatures grappled for dominance. A wave of unease and worry washed over Daenerys. She ushered a quick whisper over to Sigligon.

"What is going on?" she asked. Sigligon set a hand on her shoulder all the while not taking her eyes of the two dragons. "The beginning of flight acclimation, all the dragons will do this till they figure out who is in which place." Daenerys stared at Sigligon before back to Drogon and Kastamere. "Can you do nothing?" Daenerys asked desperately, she did not wish to see her dragons injured even more.

 "You can't fight gravity," Sigligon said lowly. Daenerys shuddered, that phrase seemed so final. She turned and watched as Kastamere snarled and lunged forward jaws snapping forcefully shut with a deafening snap above Drogon's head. Drogon was unperturbed. Instead, he lashed out snapping aggressively at Kastamere.

Kastamere backed away from the excessive snapping. Drogon now fueled with fervor thought his battle was won. His crest held high he pushed forward against the larger blue dragon. Kastamere suddenly keened out a high pitched cry as he backed away from Drogon's ferocity. A loud grumble filled the air, loud enough to overpower Drogon's actions.

Daenerys turned her head over to see Tempimere eyes narrowed unto Drogon. With a sudden whir of white, the dragon leaped and landed in front of Drogon, Kastamere scattered behind Tempimere like a child clutching to his mother's skirts. Drogon backed away at the sudden appearance of the white female, who towered over him angrily. 

She stared him down, her roar rumbling deep in her chest. Drogon cocked his head, he had never challenged another dragon the size of Tempimere, in fact, he had never seen or met another dragon beside his brothers, so to him this would be the same as challenging his brothers, he would always win.

Daenerys watched enthralled, frozen in anticipation. Despite her fear for Drogon, there was a morbid curiosity at what would happen next. Drogon flared his back and neck frills, puffing out his chest and flexing his wings he lunged forward at Tempimere in a feint. The old dragon did not even blink. If Daenerys could put emotion to the look Old One gave Drogon, it would be one of bemusement.

She was the more experienced and older dragon, a matriarch scoffing in the face of a bratty young princeling. She let him have his moment. Drogon roared and blew black flames, looking as imposing and as menacing as possible. The air vibrated from his roars and he truly looked more ferocious than Daenerys had ever seen him.

Still not a movement from Old One, she gazed on impassively. Then when Drogon finally stopped his show and remained standing, puffed out and frills raised tall and proud he exuberated confidence. Old One wad not impressed or concerned at all. Instead with great majesty, she began to tilt back onto her back legs, slowly she pulled herself taller and taller into the sky, standing fully her neck arching she gazed down on Drogon who dwarfed in size to her.

When she was at her full height she was not done, instead of at a continued monitored pace, she brought her wings out, unfurling them to their full length. They filled the air and space around her, sunlight dipping down through the thin sheets of skin, the blood vessels in the wings reminding Daenerys of rivers carving their way through the landscape of the wing webbing.

Daenerys and Sigligon were cast into the dragon's shadow as Tempimere swelled to her full size. A mass of white glistening scales and sail-like wings. There was a pause, a single solitary moment as the world seemed to hold it's breath waiting for Tempimeres next action. With bated breath, Daenerys stared up at the massive dragon.

She felt tiny at that moment, a mere insect in comparison to the supremacy of Old One. Daenerys realized in this instant, just how powerful and sovereign she was. Nothing could compare, nothing could meet her size, she was the end-all, the crowing achievement of dragons. Ancient and terrifying the daughter of Balerion the Black Dread let out a sky shattering and ground-shaking roar.

Daenerys had to clutch her hands about her ears to try and deafen the intensity of the roar. Sigligon wrapped an arm around her and huddled over her shielding her. Korb was staggering as he too tried to fight off the ear-piercing scream. The roar seemed to extend and wrap itself around everything in the area, it overtook and become it, at this moment they were all property of her domain.

As she roared white flames sprayed forth from her jaw, as they hit the air around them the flames colors would swirl with red, purple, orange and all other colors in between. The roar began to decrease only slightly as Old One glared down at Drogon. Daenerys studied her son. No longer did he stand tall and proud, instead he had caved in on himself, lowering his head and clapping his frills tightly to his body.

A look of absolute fear and confusion covering his face. All his life he had remained unchallenged, he had always been the biggest thing in the sky. Now he was nothing more than a pest compared to Old One. A foolish child who had not learned his lesson. Old One pressed forward, leaning down, forcing Drogon to concede more ground.

But this is not what she was looking for, Old One wanted something more from him, wanted him to give her true submission. She pressed on harder, this time snapping in the air around his head. Drogon cried out, he made a small attempt at collectin himself and standing up to the brute force of Old One. But his attempt was half-hearted and failed within seconds.

Old One was no longer asking. With a speed, Daenerys was not expecting, Old One's jaws wrapped around Drogon's neck. Despite the situation she was in Daenerys jumped forward, fear coursing through her veins, she could not lose her Drogon! Drogon screamed out and clawed at the ground and nipped towards Old One. 

She stood there silently allowing Drogon to have his temper tantrum, before Drogon began to calm down, instinct beginning to kick in. He stilled and went silent. Old One let go of his neck, fear abating from Drogon's eyes. A look of understanding hitting him. Slowly he lowered his head, Old One continued growling but her eyes gleamed in approval.

Inch by inch Drogon lowered himself to the ground. Pressing his tail than his belly into the snow. His wings pressed against the ground he tilted his head into the snow. All the while his eyes looked up into Old One's, there was a conversation happening between them, Daenerys did not know how or what was said but she just knew.

Finally, Drogon began to bury his nose into the snow, the truest sign of submission a dragon can give to another. Old One began to relax and compose herself once more. She leaned down and sniffed into Drogon and he allowed her, he did not growl or snap at her or make a noise. He accepted his position and remained until Old One seemed satisfied. 

With a lumbering step, Old One turned away from Drogon. Kastamere who had hidden behind Old One this entire time darted forward and grabbed the boar, eating it quickly without having Drogon interfere this time. After this, Meledarys came forward and sniffed Drogon, there were a few small growls and the same flexing of frills but in the end, Drogon once again conceded to Meledarys, however, Daenerys could tell that their relationship would always be one at odds, that he and Drogon would always fight for dominance.

Drogon rose when Kasta came back a third time, by this time Drogon had become surer of himself confidence coming back. Kastamere no longer had Old One to hide behind. With a simple roar and one last challenge, Kastamere relented and tipped his nose to Drogon. Finally, Rhealla came by, Drogon did not treat her like he did Meledarys or Kastamere. Most likely because she was a female and he was growing into that age where dragons would begin to seek out a partner. 

Their greeting was one of pleasantries. Daenerys, Sigligon, and Korb stood back and watched as the dragons sorted themselves out. Daenerys no longer felt afraid for herself or for Drogon, it seemed the introduction into the 'flight' was much simpler when the 'Alpha' had been chosen as Sigligon had put it. Korb sighed out exasperated "As it stands, Old One is still Alpha, Mele is second, followed by Drogon, then Kastamere, surprisingly Rheagal then Rhealla."

Sigligon nodded "That seems to be right." Daenerys turned to the both of them "Now what do we do?" Sigligon grinned "Nothing, they have sorted themselves out, it will be like introducing a new horse to a herd, there will be an adjustment period, but eventually they will all get along as thick as thieves." Sigligon and Korb had both turned and were beginning to walk away from the dragons. 

Daenerys gave one last look back and noted that Drogon and Rheagal were 'mingling' with Kastamere and Mele while Old One and Rhealla lay curled up aside one another grooming each other. Both Korb and Sigligon seemed relaxed with the dragons so Daenerys decided she would as well, she had other matters to attend to anyway, such as the army of the undead.

Daenerys spoke out to her two Keepers. "While you were hunting there had been a few changes in battle formation and tactics, we will need to go over them before the battle tonight." Korb paused and glanced back at her. Worry in his eyes for a brief second. "Are we sure there will be an attack tonight?" Daenerys nodded "Jon said they always come back, no matter what."

Korb sighed and he and Sigligon shared a worried look. Daenerys knew that look, it was one of affection, of worry towards the person you cherish most. The bond between brother and sister was deep and complex, despite not being blood-related, the two shared genuine care and platonic love for one another. Daenerys thought back to Viserys, he was the only brother that she knew of, and the only one she could compare such relationships too.

She wondered briefly what the world would be like if he was still here with her. Hoe would he look? Would he have married? Have children? Would he lead any armies? Would he have ridden a dragon? All these questions swirled in her mind as she neared the gates of Winterfell. The entirety of the castle was stirring with people talking of the great white beast, and what it did. 

Perhaps it was for the best, the dragons seemed to be a needed distraction from the task at hand. Defeating the army of undead, destroying the Night King and all that entails, but for now, let the northerners talk of dragons and grumpkins and snarks let them have their 'flights of fancy' as Tyrion would put it. For a few hours, longer let all forget the nightmare that was to come, let them not think of the thousands of undead, let the memories of the fallen fade for now, and at this moment let them not think of the night to come.


	34. Chapter 34  - Trial -

_Sigligon Dilis_

Sigligon found herself standing in a room with not only her Queen and retainers but also King Jon Snow, his sisters, Ser Davos, a strange wildling man called 'Tormund', and finally Samwell Tarly escorting the crippled Bran Stark of Winterfell. Needless to say, the small study room was cramped. Jon was explaining where the newly built trebuchets would be placed. As he placed them on the map outside of the walls of Winterfell Sigligon felt Korb stiffen beside her. Both had stood off to one side of the room, not wanting to cause a stir or be in the way, they were only DragonKeepers not masters of war.

The room was silent as Jon explained that having the trebuchets behind the infantry would work in helping provide more cover fire for the archers and allow for greater distance. Korb was twitching where he stood, desperately wanting to speak out it was very obvious. Sigligon stared at her brother never had she seen him act in such a way. Jon continued "Gendry has said the smiths are working on different ammunitions for the trebuchets, through trial and error we will discover which ones work best." Jon paused for a moment as he saw the nods of agreement throughout the room.

Korb finally spoke, "Your grace if I could speak?" Jon glanced over to Korb, in fact, the entire room did. Once again Sigligon felt slightly unnerved on all the eyes but was thankful that it was not her who had drawn the attention. Jon nodded his head "You may speak." Korb cleared his throat and stepped forward and pointed to the trebuchet line location. "This idea can work your Grace, however trebuchets were meant for sieging castles, they were built to be pushed forward...not backward, if we were to become overrun by the enemy we would have to abandon them completely."

Glances were being shared between all the people in the room. Korb continued "As well as the fact that it takes a few minutes to reload and fire trebuchets, our enemy is fast and can swarm us easily, having them outside the walls leaves the men arming them defenseless even if they are behind the infantry." Korb bit his lip "placed here does allow them a few hundred feet of extra distance, but at the cost of leaving them vulnerable, it would be best to have them behind the walls, where the teams can work without fear of being overcome, this would allow them to fire faster and more accurate."

Jon mulled this over quietly. Sigligon stared at Korb's back he stood proud with confidence, assured that he was correct in his approach. Jon glanced to GrayWorm. "The Unsullied have the most experience with trebuchets, what do you think of Korb's approach GrayWorm?" Sigligon turned her head to the commander of the Unsullied. The darker-skinned man stood with his arms crossed behind his back. "Trebuchet's are hard to maneuver, took many Unsullied to pull away from the gates of Mereen, behind walls they are safer, behind walls they better." 

Sigligon glanced to Jon, it was hard to understand the man with his accent and speaking mannerism but it was very clear on who's idea he preferred. Surprisingly Jon nodded in agreement "Very well, we shall have them placed behind the wall for now." Sansa Stark spoke up "Surely you don't mean to change everything about your plans just because two people suggest otherwise?" she snipped her eyebrow lifted.

Jon glanced over to Sansa, "I have never directed trebuchet's in my life Sansa, nor have I planned out this many troops at once, taking advice from others who have the experience is the correct thing to do Sansa, but at the end of the day it is my decision to be made." Jon's voice was level as he spoke to Sansa, it was clear he was frustrated with the situation but he dare not raise his voice to his sister.

Sansa's lips drew into a thin line, but she nodded "Very well, you are correct none of us here have truly led this many men into battle, I apologize for my questioning." Jon nodded and gave a small smirk to his sister. Jon glanced back over at Korb "You defended me when I was injured on the battlefield, Ser Davos has also told me you helped train in archers on the wall, it is clear you have a great amount of skill and training how is it you came by this?" Jon asked Korb.

Sigligon watched as Korb gave the smallest of shrugs. "Sigligon's father, Jovern Dilis was a great mentor and taught me much, the rest I honed by myself or I studied it in history books." Jon raised a brow "You learned to fight in books?" Korb shook his head and pointed to the table "I have read about the famous battles in history, studied their schematics, the number of men, their positions and holdings, I've read about battles in Essos, the ways people fight there, I can't claim to be a great general or a smart tactician, but...I know what I know and do the best I can with what I got."

Tyrion spoke up from beside Sigligon "A good way to go about things I suppose." Jon glanced over to Tyrion then back to Korb. Clearing his throat he spoke "Dragonsfire proved to be most helpful in our defense last night...I will be unable to ride Rheagal in my condition so I will oversee the battle from the wall with Ser Davos." Jon nodded towards the 'Onion Knight' as Sigligon heard the man called.

Daenerys spoke up next "I agreed to ride Drogon once more, I am unsure as to what plans my Keepers have for their dragons."  Sigligon stepped forward next to Korb "I will ride Meledarys, Old One will need a break after last nights exertions, Mele is young and strong and I can ride him best, Korb will switch between the walls and riding on Kasta."

"Switch?" Ser Davos asked staring at Korb. Korb nodded "The men on the wall still need direction and help, I can't be on a dragon the entire night it will wear Kasta down." Ser Davos nodded "I suppose you know best."  Sigligon piped up "The plan is to use the dragons to help control the tide when it gets to be too much for the men to handle, we can't be constantly out on the field with the risk of the Night King taking down one of our dragons, will that work for you?"

Sigligon asked Jon, staring intently. Jon nodded "Aye, that should work." 

"What about the other dragons?" Arya piped up. Sigligon glanced over to the young Stark. "We will put them in a safe place to the south of Winterfell, not too far off where they can still hear our whistles if need be," she explained.  A knock on the door caused everyone to look over and see a young boy come running in. He was small and quick, a mop of dark blonde hair. "Your Grace," he said bowing quickly to Jon, he then straightened himself and bowed to Daenerys. "Ned," Jon said softly to the boy. "Your Grace the Southern forces are here." 

The room was silent for a moment all eyes when to Jon. Jon nodded to Ned "Thank-you Ned...Ser Davos?" Jon said glancing towards his hand "Go with Ned and have their forces set up in the Eastern field, set up a few men to keep an eye on em, have their commander and captains to come here for briefing." Ser Davos nodded, bowed and left. Arya piped up "Were just gonna let Lannister forces stay here then? Invite them in like it's nothing?" Sansa spoke out coldly. "We agreed to a truce Arya, it doesn't matter how we feel about them, we are bound by oath no harm will come to them from any of us unless they break the treaty first." Sigligon smiled slightly at the frown Arya gave her sister but Arya did not speak.

As much as Sigligon did not like Lannister forces either, she understood the oath and would respect it. Tyrion turned to young Ned who had not been excused "Do we know who their commander is?" Ned turned to Tyrion, the boy turned up his nose at Tyrion "Ser Jaime Lannister is their commander, my Lord." Nearly everyone in the room was surprised by this news, Sigligon glanced over to Daenerys. Daenerys violet eyes and turned harsh and cold at the mention of Jaime's name. Tyrion had conflicting emotion on his face, Sigligon understood why, Jaime was his brother no doubt he would be happy to see him, but since he was Hand to the Queen he had to act in her best interest.

 _'It can't be easy for him'_ she thought to herself. For a moment she pitied the little lion, he was being pulled at from both sides, family and the duty to it, and his Queen and the honor he had for her. Tyrion cleared his throat. "Thank-you Lord Umber." Tyrion turned and walked over to Daenerys, he glanced up at her and they shared a look. Worry knitting Tyrion's brow as he frowned. Jon cleared his throat "Very well, have Ser Jaime and his men meet us-" "In the hall" Daenerys said cutting Jon off. Jon swung his head around to meet Daenerys gaze.

"I will not stand idly by while the man who slew my father walks freely about these halls, I will not have it," Daenerys said coldly her voice low almost a growl in her throat. Sigligon shivered and waited to see how the others reacted. Jon glanced down to the war table. He spoke calmly to all in the room, "We agreed to terms of peace, we cannot just take him our prisoner." Daenerys stepped forward as she did Jon lifted his gaze to her, confliction tearing through his face, duty to his family and his oaths, but he also wanted to honor his allegiance with Daenerys.

"I am not asking for him to be a prisoner, but I do want him brought before me so I can judge the man myself," Daenerys said in a softer tone, her voice filled with raw emotion. Her hands pressed into the table before her. Jon kept his gaze fixated on Daenerys. "Fine, you can judge him...but know that if you cause harm to him the truce that we have with the South will be broken and both of our people will pay the price." Jon relented his voice stern. Daenerys lowered her shoulders as she exhaled "I understand."

For a few seconds, the King and Queen studied each other before finally, Jon turned away to glance to Sansa. "Go tell the servants to prepare the hall." Sansa remained still her eyes on Jon. "Please Sansa" Jon added softly. Sansa nodded her head and left, Arya and the tall shieldmaiden Brianne trailing after her. Sigligon glanced over to Tyrion, he stood melancholic staring down at the floor. The room was silent for a few moments before Daenerys turned to her people "To the Hall then." she commented dryly. Sigligon, Korb, Tyrion, GrayWorm and Ser Jorah followed their Queen as she headed off down to the hall. 

 

_Jaime Lannister_

The rest of their journey to Winterfell was gratefully uneventful. The days and night passed similarly, waking up early, marching, taking a noon break, march for another few hours before breaking for camp. They stopped where the could for supplies, and at nights the camps were full of conversation. The men were relaxed, they did not have to fear Dothraki or dragons while they had the peace treaty.

So to keep themselves entertained the men would tell stories, sing, and play games with each other as if they were a bunch of young squires again. Even the older men joined in the games with the young soldiers. They had long since figured out that depending on the consistency of the snow one could form it into a ball and hurl it at once another. 'Snow Wars' were fought over who would be first in the meal line.

Jaime allowed these 'wars' to happen so long as it didn't get out of hand and didn't distract the men. He had joined in once or twice thanks to Samson. The young Lord Swyft was a good lad and had a good head on his shoulders, he also had talents. The young Lord was known as a 'trickster' ad could play such tricks as making coins disappear from his hands and making them appear in one's ear. He also had an uncanny ability to pull a chicken out of a helmet that had once been empty.

He could juggle a dozen eggs then skewer them with a sword without breaking them. Needless to say at nights dozens of men would huddle around his campfire to see his 'tricks' Jaime liked to watch with them it was a needed distraction and it made a small warmth in his chest when he saw all these men from different Lords coming together for a single purpose.

When the day finally came that they would arrive at Winterfell. Jaime began to feel some trepidation. Daenerys Targaryen was the last remaining Targaryen, not only that she was the daughter of the Mad King, the very King he had slain all those years ago. He knew how she felt towards him. He frowned and patted Knight on the neck absently.

Ser Bronn walked beside him looking over the lines of men marching. It had grown quiet now as they neared Winterfell, where once the men sang and conversed with one another they now had grown melancholic and kept glancing up to the sky. Jaime kept thinking of what exactly he would say to Jon Snow the 'King in the North' and Daenerys Targaryen. 

Not to mention every other person in the world who hated them was there, a nest of enemies all huddled on the same frozen spit of rock in the middle of godforsaken nowhere. Well most of them were enemies, he still had Tyrion, and thankfully his brother was Hand to Daenerys perhaps that might let him walk away with his life.

 _'Brienne will be there as well'_ the thought of Brienne made something stir in his stomach. Unsure of the nature of the feeling was it regret? Was he excited to see that dour-faced blonde with the too-bright blue eyes? Or was it fear. Perhaps it was a culmination of all those emotions and more. He was spiraling it felt from one thing to the next, slipping and falling as he tried to find a place to land safely.

This entire trip, this entire army what little it was, was still a giant ruse he somehow pulled off and made to work. Somehow he kept succeeding. The pale shadow of Winterfell could be seen in the distance, the road was surrounded by trees on both sides. The final few miles were arduous, the road was nothing but frozen ruts and ice at times so bad he had to dismount and lead poor Knight until the safer ground could be found to ride on.

As they neared Winterfell and Winter town the small hamlet of houses and buildings just outside the gates of Winterfell. Jaime had Samson, Conin Gray the elderly captain of Lord Eggert's men, and Arton Tarre go-ahead of the forces to report the southern 'armies' arrival. They continued making there way ever closer.

Ser Jaime could see the outlines for the thousands of Dothraki tents, as well as the tents for all the other allies of the North. A massive sea of military might, a mixture of so many cultures and people all aligning themselves together. Ser Bronn spoke for the first time in a while, which came at a surprise to Jaime. "I don't see any of those flying fuckers." 

Jaime glanced up to the sky, it was true no dragons in sight. "Perhaps they are residing somewhere else for the time being?" Jaime suggested. Ser Bronn shrugged and action that caused his gray cloak to shift off his shoulder and he had to adjust it again. "Here's hoping" he commented. Jaime adjusted his cloak, the cloaks were truly a life savior to his men, all of them cherished them for their weight and warmth kept them sleeping comfortably through the nights and kept them dry and warm during the day.

Some of the men had ever gone as far as claiming themselves the 'Banners of the Graycloaks' which Jaime thought the naming could have been done better, but he was no writer. As they neared Jaime spotted a few riders under the Stark banner approach them. Jaime's first instinct was to run, the wolves of the north had hunted the lion's of the west for many years, he had been a captor to them once.

He dismissed those thoughts and waited patiently in front of his men, Ser Bronn at his side. Having Bronn there for some reason made him feel slightly at ease, he knew if it came to fighting he could count on Bronn. An older man approached on an older gray horse, with him was a group of six Stark men-at-arms.

Jaime studied the man as he came closer, he knew him from somewhere, he filed through the cacophony of faces on retainer in his mind. Finally, a face matched, it was the gentleman that stood next to Jon while at the Dragonpit's, he didn't remember the name, but he knew this was Jon's 'Hand.' The man brought his horse to a halt a few feet away from them. 

He nodded to Jaime, Jaime gave a respectful nod in return. "Afternoon gentleman, I am Ser Davos of House Seaworth I serve as Hand to King Jon Snow." Jaime adjusted his reigns to Knight "Well met Ser Davos, I am Ser Jaime Lannister, this is Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, behind me is my forces." Jaime extended his hand towards his troops. 

Ser Davos looked past him and frowned slightly. "Pardon Ser Jaime, but we were expecting much more reinforcements" Jaime half smiled "Yes...well I can provide an explanation of course." Ser Davos nodded once "Very well, seeing as the truce is still in effect we have a place for your men to set up camp, for the time being." Ser Davos explained, then continued to say "Her Grace the Queen has requested an audience with you and your captains in the Main Hall of Winterfell."

Jaime's stomach somersaulted inside of him. He swallowed the hard lump in his throat and nodded. He turned back to his men. "Captians with me, all the rest of you follow the orders you are given." It took some time for all the captains to make their way to join with him and Bronn but once they did a few of the Stark Men-at-arms began to escort the Gray Cloaks to the area where they could set up tents and rest.

Jaime, Bronn, and all the other captains including Dwan Hallaw, Corben Redding, and Alsor Kray as well as Ser Garris the Lucky of House Hunter. All of them were escorted through Winter Town. Jaime saw the glares, all the men spat in their direction while women young and old gave them the stinkeye. It was clear they were hated and disliked and the only reason they were still breathing was because of the truce and the Northerner's penchant to keep their word, for perhaps the second time in his life Jaime was grateful of that.

Jaime remained silent for most of the walk but decided to strike up some sort of conversation to help build a rapport. "Ser Davos was it?" he asked the older man. Ser Davos turned slightly in his seat and gave a curt nod. "You served under Stannis Baratheon correct?" Jaime asked pleasantly. A dark shadow crossed over Ser Davos face before he nodded again "Yes" he said rather coldly "I did, but when he lost to the Bolton's I did my best to find a more worthy man to serve...and I found him." 

Jaime nodded "In Jon Snow?" Ser Davos frowned "That's the King in the North to you, and you will speak to him as such." Jaime put a hand up in apology. "My apologies,  _King_ Jon Snow, you find him worthy?" A small smile tugged at Ser Davo's lips at Jaime's question. "Of course, he's truthful, and fair, and does what is right not for himself or the glory...but because he wants to."

It was clear Ser Davos admired his King. Once upon a time, Jaime did the same, back when he was a fresh-faced lad, newly Knighted and was being sworn into the King's Guard, to serve the King that was a Knight's ultimate dream...how naive he was, oh how fast did his dream change into ash. But Ser Davos was not a fresh-faced lad, he was old and seemingly wise, even if he had a flea bottom accent.

There was a sincerity to him, he was candid and jovial. Jaime brushed some snow off his cloak. "So have the undead arrived yet?" There was a stiffness in Ser Davos back. Before a slow nod of the head. "Last night...didn't think we would have made it if it wasn't for the dragons." Jaime gulped and glanced to what looked like the battlefield he could only see a small portion through the breaks of the houses in Winter town.

"Their numbers?" Jaime asked, "We probably killed 25,000 of the fuckers last night and it didn't make a dent in their army....a sea of rotting dead, that's all you can see of them, course they only come at night which makes em' even harder to fucking see and kill." Jaime breathed in and out slowly the sick feeling of dread was beginning to fill him.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Knight was responding to his emotion and began to snort and dance around in unease. Jaime stroked the horse's thick muscular neck to comfort and calm him down. Ser Davos noted this but did not say anything. They continued in silence for a bit until they made it to the gates of Winterfell.

More glares, mutterings of Kingslayer, and spitting were to be had. Jaime paid it no mind 'the lion does not concern oneself with the thoughts of sheep' Jaime could hear his fathers stern voice speaking in his mind even to this day. The group of them dismounted, their horses led away by a fleet of stableboys. Jaime could see the effects of last nights battle.

Medic tents were set up, large groups of women, children, and older men fletching arrows preparing gauze, cleaning sheets doing what they could to help out the fighting men. The hammering of smiths at their forges rang out. All around them men were sparring a few groups where practice shooting their arrows. 

All around him Jaime saw life and death duel with one another. Here a woman wept for her son, there a man wept as he held a babe in his arms. It was a vicious circle where one should fall another should rise. They were led to the keep, Jaime kept an eye out for a familiar tall woman with blonde hair but he did not see her anywhere.

The halls of Winterfell were warm, it was something that Jaime had almost forgot about, it was a lifetime ago when he had last been here. Life was so simple back then, so easy...now it was chaos. If Robert had just put Tywin as hand and left Eddard Stark alone, it would have been such a different Westeros. He would still have his hand, his job, his children, the Starks would have had their family still and Westeros would have been whole.

But it was all a fantasy, not the reality of this moment. Westeros has been plunged into war since the moment Eddard Stark lost his head. For the want of one man how many people have been slaughtered? How many houses had to fall into extinction? How many bloody battles that ripped apart the land and its people...all because of Joffrey demanded the head of the honorable Ned Stark.

Their swords were taken from them before they could enter the hall, it made sense but he still felt a pang of worry for his sword...although he hated the name he didn't dare rename it, although Joffrey was a terrible child and rular...he was still his son and that sword was one of the last things he had to remember his eldest son by.

As a group, they were led into the hall, Jaime, and Bronn ahead of all the other captains. The dining tables had been pushed off to the sides leaving only three tables set out. The main head table which had seated at it Queen Daenerys Targaryen, and to her left sat King Jon Snow. A table to the left had seated Sansa Stark the cold Northern Lady, a smaller younger woman with short brown hair and dark eyes. Jaime realized at once...it was Arya Stark! He had only seen the girl in passing a few times in King's Landing but he recognized those eyes and that face, somehow she was alive and somehow she had made it home.

Next to the two Stark sisters sat the blonde-haired and blue-eyed shieldmaiden and a very welcome sight Brienne of Tarth. He wanted to nod in greeting but decided against it and only gave her the briefest of glances as he was led past her, she stared after him her eyes filled with worry. That did not help calm his nerves at all.

To his right was a table that had an odd assortment of people. One was a strange and wild-looking man with bright red hair and blue eyes, an unkempt beard covered his face and his clothes were a patchwork of animal furs. A small child sat next to him, he looked to be only ten, short blonde hair and brown eyes, Jaime couldn't be sure but he believes the sigil of House Umber was the one on his clothes. 

Next to him sat a young Lady, on the throat latch of her fine cloak was the sigil for House Mormont, he knew it was Lyanna Mormant, the little Lady of Bear Isle. Besides them was Lord Royce of the Vale, Jaime had met him a few times in his life in passing. Jaime glanced away from the side tables and instead let his eyes wander up to meet Daenerys Targaryen.

It had been so long since he had seen a person with silver hair, he had almost forgotten how it looked. The blood of the dragon flowed strongly in her, for not only did she have the famed silver hair of House Targaryen but also unnerving violet eyes as well. She stared down at him, anger tinging at the corners of her eyes, only the slightest of scows, but Jaime could tell how hard it was for her to control her anger.

 _'At least she can hold her emotions, unlike her father'_ he thought dryly to himself. There was a large fireplace behind the King and Queen, it backlit the both of them, giving each an eerie red-orange glow. Fire danced off of Daenerys light-colored hair while Jon's dark hair seemed to absorb all the light from it.

Along the walls behind them stood people, on Daenerys side was two tall men, one old, a bear emboldened on his armor. The other young, brown hair streaked with blonde combed back, icy blue eyes and a large nose. On his armor was the sigil of the three-headed dragon. Next to the young man stood a woman with pale skin, sea-blue eyes, and cascades of bright red hair.

She seemed familiar to him, but he had no idea how. Off to the side, Jaime recognized Varys the spider, but where was his brother? As if on cue Tyrion his brother and flesh and blood strode in. Behind him a young man was being pushed in a strange wheeled chair of some type, the man pushing the chair was a portly man with brown hair and beard.

Jaime studied the boy in the chair, he had long brown hair and dark eyes, the boy's eyes met him and the realization hit Jaime like a blow to the gut.  _'Bran Stark!'_   He had thought Bran and Rickon Stark had been killed, but that was not the case. Then guilt kicked in, the memory of a small boy clutching at the side of a tower window, the saddened look of Cersei as she nodded to him, it had to be done, the secret had to be kept safe,  _'poor boy'_ he had thought then  _'the death will be quick'_ but that was far from the truth, if he had known then what he knew now, he never would have pushed that boy.  _'Love is not an excuse to destroy lives'_

Jaime and all of them were stopped, the doors of the hall closed and men stood to guard them. Ser Davos stepped forward next to Tyrion. "Your Grace our...reinforcements from the south." Jon nodded and reached down beneath the table. Jaime followed this motion and nearly jumped in surprise. A direwolf! how had he missed that? Was his sight now beginning to fail him too?

He had thought all the Stark direwolves had been killed, but I guess one had been missed. This one was white with menacing red eyes, it made Jaime even more uneasy. Tyrion spoke out, he had grown out his beard it looked rather dashing on him, and Jaime was surprised Tyrion had not done it before. On his shoulder was the same Hand of the Queen pin it glinted in the light.

"Your Grace, may I present to you my brother Ser Jaime Lannister Lord Commander of the Queensguard, to his right is Ser Bronn of the Blackwater." Both he and Ser Bronn bowed in reverence as was custom. The men behind him bowed as well. The hall fell silent for a few moments, Jaime could tell Jon was even uncomfortable, he held a hand to his chest, perhaps he was injured in last nights battle?

"When I was a child, my brother would tell me a bedtime story." was the first thing Daenerys said. She spoke softly, but Jaime could see in her face, it the way her lips pinched over her teeth, the rigidness in her jaw. She gripped the sides of her chair, fingers digging into the wood. Jaime remained silent and let her speak.

"He told us of the man who murdered our father, the man who slit his throat than sat down on the Iron throne and watched him bleed." Jaime lowered his gaze to the floor. The memories flooding back to him fresh and vivid.

* * *

 

_The King was furiously pulling at his hair and scratching at his arms, blood flowing freely down and dripping unto the thronerooms floor. Outside Jaime could hear the screams as Roberts army tore through the streets, the stags warpath thundering ever closer to the red keep rending all who stood in his wake. Jaime clutched at his sword, he was the only one standing with the King, the rest were outside the throne room ready to die in service to their King._

_Aerys suddenly turned, his eyes illuminated with half-crazed zeal. His voice croaked out hoarse and nearly indecipherable, a spray of spit every time he spoke through crooked and gnashing teeth. "Your father!" Jaime was taken aback "Your Grace?" he asked. Suddenly the King's face went red in a rage "YOUR FATHER, HE HAD BETRAYED US"_

_Aerys voice echoed off the walls of the chamber, reverberating off the countless dragon skulls that hung above. Jaime licked his lips, his tongue felt thick in his mouth. "We...we don't kno-"_

_"I KNOW BOY...I AM THE KING" Aerys bellowed out, his eye twitching as his hand shook and contorted._

_Aerys whirled around again, his crown sat crooked on his head, a mass of silver knots and dreads was his hair. Aerys stood half hunched over, he crackled under his breath as he scratched continuously at his arm. Jaime had come used to his erratic behavior, he knew he just had to wait it out.  The King wandered over to the tiny dragon skull that sat on the pedestal next to the throne._

_It had been a small green female, that is what he had been told, and it had laid five eggs, but he had no idea if that was truth or just a lie for Jaime had never seen those five eggs. Curiously Aerys ran a sharp fingernail gently over the skull, tracing its features. The King cooed to it as one would to a child in a crib. The war going on outside seemed to be forgotten._

_Jaime cleared his throat. Aerys snapped his head up then sniffed the air, he turned and glanced to Jaime, he staggered back acting as if he had never seen him before in his life. Then Aerys tilted his head, a deep laugh bubbling out of his lips along with a dribble of drool. "His head!" He suddenly proclaimed, then staggered up to his throne and crumpled into it, holding his arms away from the sides for fear of cutting himself once again._

_"Who's head?" Jaime asked._

_"Your fathers, bring it to me! Kill the lion! Kill the lion! I want it's head-mounted and it's pelt at my fireplace!"  Jaime staggered back the King wanted him to kill his father? "Your Grace, please listen to what's going on outside!" The King stared at him blankly, then craned his neck to listen. Silence as the two of them heard the sounds of screaming, and the yelling for the bells to be tolled._

_The King frowned, then his head sunk to the floor, Jaime watched as a tremor tore through the King's body. A low growl could be heard, how was this man a King? He could barely pass for a man! Aerys lunged forward making Jaime dance backward as the King howled in a fit of rage swinging into the air. "COWARDS, WEAKLINGS, TRAITORS ALL OF THEM!!!"_

_The King was livid now screaming at the top of his lungs, he tore at his face as he half laughed half cried._

_"_ _BRING ME THE LION'S HEAD!" the King snapped, his previous display of madness suddenly gone. Aerys stood calm and still, his arms folded behind him. "Ser Jaime, I order you to bring me your fathers head...I will not ask again!" This request was calm and meticulous for a brief moment Jaime could see the strength of the dragon within him, that iron will._

_But just as soon as it came it began to leave. Jaime shook his head and went down to his knee. "Please your Grace, anything but that, that is my father.."  Aerys tsked and shook his head, his crown becoming more unsettled a mirror to the King's mind. "He is a traitor...just like all of them out there...traitors...that is what I judge them...I will judge them with a trail of combat..."_

_Jaime stared up at the King it was hard to see through his tears. He was confused so very confused._

_"Fire"  Aerys whispered seductively._

_"Fire" he stated louder now, his voice lilting an octive._

_"Yes, a trial by fire...burn them all,"  Aerys started turning back to the door._

_The King roared out his voice going hoarse once more "BURN THEM ALL"_

_"BURN THEM ALL" "BURN THEM ALL" "BURN THEM ALL" he screamed over and over again, in various pitches and frequencies, laughing and crying, jumping and leaping he danced in a frenzy his music was his voice singing the phrase "BURN THEM ALL" over and over and over. Jaime wanted it to stop, wanted it to end. He could hear the people screaming, how the begged for help, and here their King wanted to finish the job._

_Jaime knew what wildfire would do, he had seen it in action. He knew the casks of it all over the city. His heart skipped a beat, all those innocent people, they had no say in any of this. How could he stand by and watch this happen? He clamped his hands over his ears, the Mad King's voice grating into his skin, burrowing into his mind and there it nestled infecting every cell._

_Jaime shook with effort and emotion. He cried, the stress of his body, he wanted to run and scream but couldn't be stuck in a situation where he couldn't escape. The screams from outside louder and louder. He could hear people at the gates, the din of battle was drawing nearer. His heart pounding, racing. He wanted it to all stop._

_Aerys was in his face now, spittle spraying out from his mouth. Jaime fell backward as the Mad King towered over him. Proclaimed he would become a dragon and burn them all. The Mad King howled with laughter his eyes bright and vacant of all human emotion. 'Please just stop! Just stop! Just stop! Why are you the King! You are not fit! You're insane! JUST SHUT UP!'_ _Jaime's internal voice was screaming at him all his senses on fire. Hang honor, hang loyalty, hang the oaths, this man was not worthy of Kingship, therefore Jaime was not bound by his oaths, he was sworn to serve and protect the KING, not a CRAZED TYRANT._

_Aerys turned away then, and Jaime saw his opportunity. The next moments felt like a dream to him. It all happened so fast yet felt so heart-wrenchingly slow. The blade slipping in through the Mad King's back, the spurt of blood then the sudden silence as the King finally stopped screaming. Jaime felt relief flood him for a moment then as he plunged the blade deeper into the Mad King's back._

_The blade's edge grazed against bone and tore through sinew. The Mad King was choking now, slowly he fell forward the blade tore away from the King's back. The King grappled on the ground for a few moments turning towards Jaime in shock. Blood spilled from his lips, his crown had fallen off. Aerys eyes shone bright and bloodshot laced with pain._

_He choked out slowly "B...urn....th....m.....alllllll" his voice a harsh ragged whisper. It was still too loud for Jaime's liking. Jaime stepped forward and slashed open the King's throat, the pale flesh parted easily and the thick red spray of blood followed. Air wheezed out of the King's neck wound, a gaping cavity of skin Jaime could look inside and see the flesh quivering making the blood bubble the King bled like a stuck hog, thankfully he never said another word._

_Jaime staggered back his limbs weak, he felt cold a strange calm coming over him. He fell back into the throne, not caring that it was the Iron throne, at this moment it was a much-needed chair.  Jaime watched as the King's body went limp, a hand outstretched reaching towards the door, the King's face turned up towards the dragons skulls._ _Jaime leaned back and stared up at the massive beasts that were no more. The Targaryen's would follow the dragons into extinction, for beasts like that should not exist in this world any longer._

_What happened after that Jaime couldn't say for sure. He remembered a judgemental Northerner the detestable and disappointed glares from all around him. Where they happy the King was dead? Of course but they also were upset they were not the ones to do it. He remembered the disappointed looks from his fellow Kingsguard. The way Robert Baratheon strode around the Red Keep, war hammer over his shoulder his black beard and thick hair drenched in sweat, he was every bit the warrior that Aerys wasn't. The King's body was burned with wildfire, the ashes placed in the Sept of Baelor next to all the other Targaryens. Robert became King, married his sister and life moved on after that._

* * *

 

Jaime came back from his memories glancing up as Daenerys continued her speech. "My brother told me other stories, of what we would do when we reclaimed our throne and found the man who took our father away from us." Jaime stood solemnly as Daenerys eyes burned in intense anger. "Your sister pledged to send her army North, I have been told only 500 men have come with you...I thought the Royal army was far larger than that?" Daenerys accused Jaime glanced over to Jon, the Northern King's face was emotionless. 

Jaime waited a few moments before speaking "This is all the men my sister saw fit to spare." He said quietly keeping his eyes level with the Queens. Her head turned towards Tyrion. "So you're saying your sister has lied to me." Jaime glanced over to Tyrion, his head was bowed his mouth drawn into a line. He felt his heart go out to his little brother, none of this could have been easy for him. He glanced down to his hand "She lied to me as well" he said softly.

Daenerys turned her head back to him, her lips pursed. "She has Euron Grayjoy's Iron Fleet, as well as 20,000 fresh troops, the Golden Company from Essos bought and paid for, even if we defeat the dead she will have enough to destroy the survivors." Daenerys stared at him incredulously, emotions of anger and shock wrote all over her face. "We" she stated frowning. Jaime lifted his head having his gaze wander over to Jon then back to Daenerys. "I promised to fight for the living, I intend to keep that promise."

Daenerys fixed her gaze into his, he could see her shoulders move in motion with her breathing. Tyrion stepped forward, an action that caused all eyes to go to him. "My Queen, I know my brother-" "Like you knew your sister?" Daenerys snapped at Tyrion. Tyrion let his head hang for a second. "He came here with these men, knowing full well of how he would be received, he could have stayed in King's Landing and let us all die...but he didn't why would he do that if he wasn't telling the truth?"

"Perhaps he knew his brother would defend him." She chided to Tyrion. Jaime glanced over at Bronn. The man had beads of sweat on his brow and looked like he was assessing the best way to run from the situation they were in.

"You are right, we can't trust him." a new voice joined in, it was Sansa, she looked on her voice cool and even. "He attacked my father in the streets he tried to destroy my House and my family the same as he did yours." She continued glancing over to Daenerys. Jaime felt a prickle of irritation he would not be backed into a corner, no matter how many wolves circled. "You want me to apologize?" he asked looking to Sansa she lifted a brow. "I won't, everything I did for my family and my House and I would do it all the same." Sansa's head tilted back, surprised by his sudden fervor.

Daenerys too looked on, surprised anyone dared to speak in suck ways in front of her. Jon looked on, interested in what he had to say. Another voice joined the conversation.

"The things we do for love." it was stated simply and without inflection. Both Sansa and Daenerys looked over to the voice's owner, it was Bran Stark, he sat and gazed into Jaime's eyes. Jaime realized where he had heard those words before, the boy knew, he had always known, and yet he did not say anything else. For a few moments there was a silent conversation it seemed being had between him and the stony-faced Stark. A strange emotion rippling through Jaime, fear? Guilt? Worry? what was it?

Daenerys turned her head back to him and asked out loud "So why have you come here? Why even make the attempt, it is clear your sister spits in the face of our truce, why even come here at all?" Jaime glanced over to Brienne, she gazed towards him her wide blue eyes staring at him in concern. He turned back to Daenerys, she had a brow lifted as she waited for his answer.

"Because this goes beyond loyalty." He uttered quietly, one last glance to Brienne. He looked back into Danerys eyes "This is about survival." The sound of a chair being pushed back rapidly echoed throughout the hall. Jaime and everyone else turned to see Brienne marching forward her jaw set, she stood in front of him just off from his shoulder, if he reached out he could touch her.

She looked taller if that was even possible, and at that moment her eyes radiated with iron-willed conviction, he knew that right now she was determined beyond all reason. Brienne began to speak.

"You do not know me well Your Grace, but I know Ser Jaime, he  _is_ a man of honor." Daenerys did not say a word, Jaime stared at the back of Brienne's head as she spoke on his behalf. "I was his captor once" she began taking a small breath. "But when we were both taken prisoner and the men who held us tried to force themselves on me...Ser Jaime defended me."

Daenerys eyes softened only the slightest, she made not a word, instead, she glanced over to him. Jaime made no move, he held her gaze letting Brienne continue. "He lost his hand because of it," Brienne added sternly. Daenerys swallowed, the tiniest of motion in her throat.

Brienne turned to Sansa now, Sansa looked on intrigued by Brienne's actions. "Without him my Lady, you would not be alive...he armed me and armored me, and sent me to find you to bring you home" A brief pause, Sansa glanced to Jaime then back to Brienne it was clear many emotions were running through Sansa's mind, her eyes glistened from it.

"He did it because he swore an oath to your mother." Brienne's shoulders dropped slightly as she finished her last line. Sansa glanced down, her throat bobbing as she swallowed down her emotions. The hall was calm and still, only the light crackle of the fire could be heard. After several moments of contemplation Sansa looked up to Brienne.

"You vouch for him?" she asked softly.

Brienne gave the slightest of nods, "I do."

"You would fight beside him?" she asked her voice shaky.

There was a delay in Brienne's answer, she lifted her head and squared her shoulders. "I would" she voiced firmly.

A lull fell over the room as Sansa glanced to Jon then back to Brienne. "I trust you with my life...." she spoke quietly, just above a whisper. Sansa's eyes met Jaimes. Her eyes were softer now, at this moment Jaime could see so much of Catelyn Stark in the woman. "If you trust him with yours we should let them stay and fight."

Daenerys head snapped over to stare at Sansa, it was clear Daenerys was not expecting this answer. She then turned to Jon. Jon glanced from Daenerys then to Jaime. At this time Brienne had bowed then returned to her seat. "What does the King in the North have to say?" Daenerys asked through half clenched teeth.

Jon studied him "We made a truce to stand and fight the dead together if Cersei decides to break that truce that is on her and reflects her character, but here in the North we honor our oaths...Southern Lords may laugh at us, tell us we are Northern fools..." Jon smiled slightly but shook his head "But to me, and the North there is no greater way to judge a person's character than by how well they keep their oaths in times of adversity."

Jon hardened his gaze, "The North will uphold it's treaty to the Crown, you may stay and fight with us, the army of the dead is large and we need all the men we can get...the living people of Westeros need to stand together." Jon gave Jaime a nod, Jaime bowed his head respectfully. Jon then turned to Daenerys, the Queen's face was still in contemplation, it seemed Jon's words of wisdom were sinking in.

Although Jaime could tell Daenerys had disdain for him which was to be expected, she no longer had the look of wanting to murder him, which to him was an improvement. "Very well" she finally said audibly the room relaxed with several sighs.

"His Grace speaks truthfully, the living people of Westeros must stand together against the dead, and although I am greatly disappointed in your sister's obvious attempt at planting dissent amongst us I will not be so gullible as to fall for it..." Daenerys steepled her hands in front of her on the table. "You may stay and fight with your men, our truce shall remain despite Queen Cersei's malfeasance to our deal, I choose to be the better Queen and will overlook this infraction for now."

Jaime felt a massive weight lift from his shoulders. Daenerys stood up calmly her eyes looked on showing a steely resolve.  _'She is far more capable than her father ever was, perhaps her coin flipped the right way.'_ Jon, Sansa and the rest of the court stood. Jaime risked a glance to Brienne before he bowed to Daenerys and Jon "Thank-you, your Grace."

Jon and Daenerys eyes met for a second he then turned to look at Jaime "You and your captains should come to the war room, there we will brief you on our battle plans." Jaime nodded curtly "Of course." Daenerys was leaving the room, a large retainer of people trailing behind her. Jon continued speaking his hand burying into the fur of the direwolf's head that sat at his side.

"You are free to walk the grounds and so are your men, we will command you to forfeit all weapons however if you enter the keep is that understood?" Jaime nodded "I understand." Jon gave a nod "Very well then come this way." Jon, Ser Davos, and several other members of the court, as well as several Stark Men-at-arms, led them through the halls to the war room, all the while Jaime couldn't believe he was not being burned alive, perhaps the gods did have something planned for him after all.


	35. Chapter 35 -Again-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Talk/mentioning of Abortion and miscarriage in the chapter.

_Sigligon Dilis_

Daenerys stormed out of the Main Hall, silently she stalked back towards her rooms. Sigligon and the others followed her quietly. Sigligon could sense Daenerys frustration, it loomed over her like a dark shadow. Down the hall, they went servants and the like ducking into side rooms to hide away from the DragonQueen's rage. When Daenerys reached the door to her room, she stopped which in turn caused all of them to stop. They stood cramped in the hallway, her, Korb, Tyrion, Ser Jorah, Varys, GrayWrom and Missandei, all of them present and accounted for. 

Daenerys turned on her heel and faced Tyrion, he kept his head downcast as Daenerys spoke her voice holding back emotion. "You failed to predict your families actions yet again, and now she sits in King's Landing laughing at us for being fools...if you fail me for a third time you will no longer be my hand, is that understood?" The crushing weight of Daenerys anger was expected, but Sigligon found her threat to be too serious for the situation. Tyrion was smart but he was not a mind reader, how could of anyone predict what another person would do? If anyone could then countless wars could have been stopped a long time ago.

"I am sorry my Queen for my failure, I will do my best to correct it." Daenerys glanced over at a wall and sighed "You had better." She murmured softly. She then turned and addressed everyone in front of her "Grayworm, Ser Jorah, Tyrion and Korb, all of you need to go to the war room and speak on my behalf to present our armies battle plans to the...Southern forces." The four men bowed and retreated down the hall, leaving Sigligon, Varys, and Missandei. "Varys, go write a letter to Queen Cercei, tell her that the rightful Queen of the seven Kingdoms graciously accepts her bountiful aid of reinforcements and that I hope this winter is fair to her and all her armies in Kings Landing..." Varys nodded catching Daenerys meeting and rushed off to attend to those matters.

This left Sigligon and Missandei behind. "Come, I wish to retire and distract myself from present events," she muttered to them as she opened the door to her room and entered, still carrying her head high. Once inside the door however she deflated and dragged her feet to the lounging couch and threw herself upon it, her arm leaning against the side of the couch as she leaned her head against the fist of her hand.

Missandei stood by patiently her arms folded in front of her. Sigligon stood for a few seconds scanning the room, the fire was topped off and everything seemed to be in order. She studied her Queen's face, she was tired and stressed. So many things had been happening to her all of a sudden, it was a wonder she didn't pull her hair out.

Sigligon coughed and stepped forward "Would either of you want some tea? I am feeling for some Lavender and Bergamont tea." Daenerys made not a sound but she did not say no. Sigligon glanced to Missandei the young women shrugged. Sigligon walked over to the fire, a small kettle had been left behind, she quickly added some water and three small servings of her tea leaf.

Sigligon could immediately smell the flowery aroma of Lavender. She placed the kettle on a hook to hang over the fire. Sigligon glanced down to the embers in the fire, realization hitting her that she needed to attend to the eggs, they had almost been forgotten! Quickly she stood and walked over to to the egg chest. Daenerys saw her movements "What are you doing?" she asked worry in her voice.

Sigligon craned her neck to look over at Daenerys "Apologies your Grace, I need to top off the embers on the eggs." Daenerys pursed her lips but then nodded "Go ahead" she said calmly. Sigligon quickly picked up the chest and carried it over to the fireplace. Setting it down carefully she began to clean out some of the older embers. She lightly moved the eggs around getting to the dead embers underneath. When those had been cleared away she used the small shovel to the side of the fireplace and began to place fresh embers into the chest. 

She placed the eggs back into their original positions, taking care of the oldest the slate gray as delicately as possible. Missandei spoke up "Will the eggs die if they do not have heat?" Sigligon turned to Missandei. "Technically no, the spark of life can go for centuries, but the one here is from the time of Aegon the Conqueror." She said pointing and moving aside for Missandei to see. "I do not wish to risk it dying out, someday when peace settles in the land I would like to hatch it...imagine waiting 300 years to be born."

Daenerys eyes stared lovingly at the chest. "How do you know it's that old? The color?" Sigligon shook her head "We have an egg and dragon registry, records from my ancestors and before, detailing every dragon and all eggs laid on Dragonstone...well as detailed as one can get." Sigligon explained closing the lid to the eggs once more. She stood and checked on the tea, it bubbled in the kettle, she decided it was done, she removed it from the fire and allowed it to cool and steep for a few minutes longer. Meanwhile, she turned back to Daenerys and Missandei.

 "The colors of the eggs will only tell you what color the dragon will be inside, my family believes that dragons are a combination or of a similar color palette to their parents...however at times colors can skip a generation." Daenerys cocked her head in interest "Really? What makes you say that?" Sigligon motioned to the outside "Old One is the daughter of Balerion, Balerion was as black as pitch even darker than Drogon, but his daughter is the purest white...this was because as legend puts it Balerions mother was a dragon of gleaming white, her mate was a dragon the color of smoke, somehow Balerion was an egg as black as the night sky."

Daenerys sat up more in her chair, her mind now becoming distracted by the talks of dragons. "Truly? Do you know their names?" Sigligon shook her head "No names your Grace, the Valyrians only named the dragons who were worthy of names, House Targaryen was a small house in Valyria who only had five or so Dragons none of them were named till they crossed the narrow sea." Daenerys frowned "How can a House with five dragons be considered small?" she accused. Sigligon chuckled softly as she returned back to the kettle to pour out the tea, while her back was turned she explained.

"There was nearly forty 'Dragonlord' families, men, and women who rode dragons with the use of magic, whips, and horns, some of the houses were have said to possess forty dragons." Sigligon turned and took a cup over to Daenerys. Daenerys paused and glanced down at its contents. Sigligon sighed and drank from her own. The soothing liquid splashed hot down her throat but it was a much-needed warmth that spread from her lips to her toes. "I wouldn't do all this work to poison you, My Queen." Daenerys raised her brows in surprise then meekly nodded.

"I know...I just...one has to be wary." Sigligon nodded and turned back to grab the last cup of tea and gave it to Missandei. "Being wary is good, but always assuming everyone is trying to kill you is another matter." Daenerys did not comment, instead, she sipped the tea. Her nose scrunched and she made smacking sounds. Sigligon grinned at this "It's an acquired taste, you can sweeten it with sugar and honey, would you like some?" Daenerys nodded. Sigligon pulled out a packet of sugar and a tiny jar of honey from her side pouch.

Daenerys smiled as she saw this. "You carry your tea supplies on you all the time?" She shrugged "You never know when you need a good cup." Sigligon turned to offer Missandei some sugar and honey but found Missandei holding an empty cup to her. "Could I have some more?" the woman asked sheepishly. Sigligon nodded and returned to the kettle and filled Missandei's cup extra full, she then put more tea and water into the kettle to begin the next batch, something told her they would need it. Once Daenerys had hot honey water and sugar with lavender flavoring she seemed satisfied with the 'tea.'

Sigligon added only a small bit of honey before settling down in a chair opposite of Daenerys, instinctively she raised her legs to seat herself folded on the couch much as she would do at home. Daenerys raised a brow and smiled as she sipped more of her sweet tea. "Apologies" Sigligon said as she put her feet back down on the ground. Daenerys waved her off "No need for pleasantries, let us all be comfortable, come Missandei join us." Daenerys said patting next to her on the couch. Missandei walked over and took a long swig of her tea.

She felt the worry of the world fall away as she lost herself into the small wooden cup of tea. "Forty dragons, I couldn't imagine," Daenerys commented looking off into the fire. Sigligon nodded "Aye, I couldn't imagine it either, feeding that many..." She trailed off and shook her head. She looked over to Missandei. "Do you remember much of Naarth? Sigligon asked innocently. Missandei glanced down into her tea and shook her head "Not really...I was taken as a girl, I only remember small things, the beaches...trees...the waters...that's about it."

She felt terrible for bringing up painful memories "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad." Missandei shook her head "No, it is okay if I had not been taken I would never have met Daenerys, I would have never come here." Daenerys and she shared a smile they had a deep relationship it seemed, they were close like sisters. Sigligon smiled to herself, she wondered if she and Korb looked like that at times, the trust and affection for one another. Missandei looked over to Sigligon "What makes you curious about Naarth?" 

She shrugged "I had seen one of my ancestor's drawings of it, and always would like to see it." Missandei nodded "True, but you must be careful, there is a species of butterflies there that can cause the 'butterfly illness' it causes the flesh to fall of anyone who stays on Naarth for more than a year...only us who are born on Naarth are immune." Interested by this concept, Sigligon wondered how could the people build such immunity? was there pollen in the air that helped build the immunity, perhaps a specific food, or was it something in the bloodline...would someone who had one parent a native be immune? Her mind whirled with thoughts.

So many thoughts that she did not realize she was staring into space. "Sigligon?" Daenerys asked. She jerked her head up at the mention of her name. Both women were staring at her. Sigligon felt herself grow hot with embarrassment. "Apologies, I get lost in thought from time to time." Daenerys smiled "You and Tyrion both." at the mention of Tyrion Daenerys face soured. Sigligon shifted in her seat before she began to broach the subject. "No one could have predicted Cercei's actions, even Ser Jaime was taken by surprise, the only thing that matters now is that she is at least keeping her armies in King's Landing for the time being."

Daenerys was silent, but at least she did not look angry as she had been before. "Ser Jaime, I was half expecting him to come riding in on a white horse with long flowing golden hair a pet lion at his feet." Sigligon shrugged "Stories build people up just as much as they can tear people down." Daenerys turned and studied her "What did you think of him?" Sigligon frowned at this she shook the glass in her hand "He seemed truthful enough, he is willing to fight...and he was brave enough to come here...knowing his history."

"Brave or stupid" Daenerys commented turning back to the fire. "The stupid act would be to lie to a truce with a Queen who has dragons, which means if anything Ser Jaime at least has some common sense." This caused Daenerys to smile. She turned back to Sigligon "I suppose your right, hopefully, he will die in the war to come." Sigligon nodded in agreeance but found herself frowning as memories began to surface back into the front of her mind.

* * *

 

_"Young Lady, what do you think you are doing?"  Sigi turned back to gaze up at the old Northern cook. Her hands on her hips, apron covered in flour, a smear of batter on her cheek and her hair slightly frazzled. "I'm gonna take wine and pastries to the Knights!" She exclaimed, as she half stood in the window she was currently trying to climb out of holding a pitcher of wine and a small bag of pastries. Gauld shook her head but smiled as she did so. "You are too much like your father, what will he say if he finds out?"_

_Sigligon beamed at Gauld "If" she stated confidently. Gauld tutted and waved her hand "Fine, fine just do not get caught, and please do not break my pitcher." Sigligon was already out the window and scrambling to the front yard. There gleaming in the sunlight stood four armored men casually standing in the entranceway. They stood around the King's carriage, their horses tied to a nearby tree. Ser Colin chatted pleasantly with an older man of the King's Guard.  Sigligon ran over happily. Ser Conlin noticed her "My Lady!" he said in mock shock "Why ever are you outside? You are supposed to be doing your letters!"_

_Ser Conlin's eyes twinkled as he crossed his arms. The older man next to him with white hair and beard grinned "Someone will be in trouble indeed!" he commented loudly in a baritone voice. Sigligon grinned and handed Ser Conlin her pitcher of water "Brought you water Ser Conlin...and pastries I and Gauld made em, they are blueberry!" Ser Conlin chuckled, "All for me?" Sigligon shook her head "No, you should share, you told me a Knight always shares!"_

_Ser Conlin and the older Knight laughed, the others were grinning as well. "I did, didn't I? " he mused before handing a pastry to the older Knight. "Lady, this here is Ser Barristan Selmy...the greatest swordsmen in Westeros!" Sigligon grinned excitedly "Realllllllly?"  she asked drawing out her question. Ser Barriston chuckled "For now I suppose I am, but one day someone will beat me I Imagine."  Sigligon shook her head  "I hope not, cause then I will be sad." Ser Barristan chuckled "No need to weep over an old Knight like me my Lady."_

_Ser Conlin passed out the pastries to the other Knights who accepted them graciously. "Lannister, come get your's boy" Ser Barristan yelled. From around the carriage came a very young King's Guard, in fact, Sigligon had never seen one so young. He was tall with bright green eyes and long flowing blonde hair. He glistened from head to toe in gold it seemed. Sigligon was in awe she had remembered hearing about the Lannisters, that they owned lions made of gold? Was that it? Sigligon glanced around for a lion. She frowned, Ser Conlin, noticed this, "What is it my Lady?" Sigligon huffed "I was told Lannisters have pet gold lions, I don't see it."_

_A roar of laughter from all the men there made Sigligon jump. Even the Lannister man laughed. He knelt to her eye level. "Apologies for the disappointment my Lady, but our golden lions died out a long time ago, we only have them on out banners now." Sigligon frowned "Oh, I am sorry Ser Lannister." The man laughed a twinkle in his eyes "Ser Jaime young one." Sigligon grinned "Would you like a blueberry pastry Ser Jaime?" Ser Jaime nodded and accepted it. "No Knight can refuse a gift from a Lady, it is in our code."_

_Sigligon chuckled and Ser Conlin held out the pastries to Ser Jaime. Sigligon snatched it "I want to give it!" Ser Conlin put his hand up in apology and let Sigligon hand out the pastries. The men tucked in and thanked her, saying it was the best they had ever eaten. Sigligon beamed from ear to ear. She watched curiously as Ser Jaime ate only half of his pastry before walking over to one of the horses tied to the tree._

_He approached a white-colored mare, she had a long tail that nearly touched the ground, it's hairs long and gleamed in the sun, it was very apparent that this mare was well taken care of. From her painstakingly braided mane to her well-groomed body she was a beauty, a true noble steed for a Knight. She turned over to Ser Conlin, "Can I go see the horses? Please??" She begged jumping up and down._

_Ser Conlin nodded "Be careful though!" he warned as she scampered away and after Ser Jaime. Ser Jaime turned and saw her, he raised a hand "Easy now, don't run like that they may spook." He instructed her. Sigligon slowed down and hesitantly approached the white mare. Sigligon barely reached the animal's shoulder, to her the creature was massive._

_Ser Jaime scratched the mares head, to Sigligon the mare's head didn't look right, the nose was curved the wrong way, most horses she had seen had long flat faces, but this one did not, it seemed completely opposite from all other horses. Ser Jaime noted her confusion stares. "Her sire is an imported stallion, a very hardy and strong breed, my father has bred a few of them."_

_Sigligon walked forward and reached a handout, the mare swung her head around and with her ears tipped forward to Sigligon she pressed her muzzle into Sigligon's hand looking for a treat. Sigligon giggled at the soft horse lips shuffling against her skin. Ser Jaime continued stroking the mare's neck holding onto the reigns that hung down._

_Sigligon reached into her bag and pulled out a pastry. "Can I feed her one?" She asked Ser Jaime nodded. Sigligon lightly held out the pastry holding it out on the tips of her fingers. Jaime shook his head then stepped up next to her "Not like that, hold your hand flat, that way she won't bite your fingers." He instructed warmly._

_She remembered him standing next to her, telling her about 'Cloud' how strong and brave she was, he was genuinely kind to Sigligon and was patient with her questions. Eventually, Gauld came to the door and shooed Sigligon inside back to her room to finish her letters, but she made sure to wave out to her Knights who stood in the yard, and when it came time to leave she made sure to wave goodbye to Cloud and Ser Jaime._

* * *

The three of them sipped their tea in comfortable silence for a while. After a half-hour or so Daenerys spoke up "How are you and Grayworm liking the North Missandei?" she asked turning towards her close friend. Missandei shrugged "It is...very different your Grace, the people here...are distant...and have a difficult culture to understand."

Sigligon nodded "Northerns are bred like the land they live on, harsh but resilient and strong...they need to be to survive." Missandei frowned "Is it because of the cold?" she shrugged contemplating. "Partially, that and the land is hard to till for food, one must earn their keep, they do not have the luxury of having extra food for the weak to eat...some call it cruel, but to them, it's a necessity."

Missandei nodded understanding. "I understand that what I don't get is their aversion to foreigners." Sigligon sighed heavily putting down her tea. She glanced over to Daenerys. "You have to understand from their point of view...hundreds of years ago, they were their own kingdom, with their own separate armies, laws, and people...it changed when Tarren Stark bent the knee."

Sigligon closed her eyes "Our cook, Gauld, came from the North, she said when Tarren Stark bent the knee the Northern people felt betrayed, although it saved their lives and their families it made the North look weak and cowardly, thus the rest of the kingdoms laughed at them...they were made to be the fools of Westeros...but in the end they survived and not a Northern life was taken by Aegon, while the rest of the Kingdom's burned"

Daenerys looked down for a moment. "But I am not Aegon." Sigligon nodded "You are not, but ever since that day the North has fought to reclaim their honor and dignity, they will refuse to be taken as fools again." Daenerys nodded slowly as she sipped her tea. Sigligon could see her mind thinking behind her violet eyes.

"I just wish they would learn to at least accept us...an attempt even," Missandei commented dryly drowning the last of her tea, the crackle of the fire echoing her. Sigligon squinted at Missandei. "Is there anything in particular?" Missandei bit her lip then smoothed the fabric of her dress before speaking "In the crypts, I tried to calm a few of the children, but most of them would scurry away, Tyrion and Sansa were able to calm them with stories but I was unable too."

Sigligon tilted her head as she thought of a solution, it was obvious on Missandei's face she cared deeply about this. "Start with Northern stories, things children love, no matter how much a child may dislike you, they can't turn down classic stories...then slowly make your way into other stories, stuff about fantastical things, Northern children have only seen the North, show them the world through your eyes."

Missandei leaned forward "Like what?" Sigligon scooted forward as well "Tell them about your island, about tall trees that grew fruit as hard as a rock, about birds that could speak like humans and were the colors of the rainbow...monkeys that swung from tree to tree on vines...tell them about your butterflies, both the good and the bad...introduce them to the wider world...it will be hard but if you keep it up eventually you will get them to open up..."

Missandei leaned back nodding vigorously "That can work... I shall try that tonight then." At Missandei's statement the small smile that had formed on all of their lips faded. 'Tonight' meant only one thing to them, death and darkness once more. Sigligon finished the last of her tea, all that remained was the watery dregs. 

"Let us not think about that just yet, why don't we talk about something else?" After that their discussions faded into talks of different lands and stories they had heard, Sigligon would talk of places her ancestors had visited, Daenerys would talk about the Great Grass Sea, and Missandei would talk about the various cities and people she had met and seen, on the three of them went forgetting for only a moment of the Night to come.

_Sansa Stark_

"You may fix your gown, My Lady." Maester Wolkan said gently. Respectfully he turned away from her and let her adjust her gown's fabric to settle where it had been before. She sat up on her bed where he had just finished examining her. Brienne stood nearby her face perpetually set in a frown. "I am set Maester." She answered looking up at the back of Wolkan's head.

The Maester of Winterfell turned back towards her. "From the symptoms, you have told me and for the feel of your stomach, combined with the lateness of your bleeds...I would confirm that you are indeed with child My Lady."

Sansa's heart skipped a beat. There it was then, it was true. Shock and horror ran through her. Unsure of what to say or what to do she blankly nodded as she stared off out the window. It felt surreal, perhaps this was a dream? Maester Wolkan cleared his throat "If you would like I can provide some herbal remedies for the sickness, mint, and ginger can calm the stomach greatly." 

Sansa shook her head "No, thank-you" she replied quietly "Please, I need some time." Wolkan bowed, then turned and left the door closing behind him on his way out. Brienne stepped forward. She did not say a word, the two of them shared a look. Sansa's vision became blurry as she stared up at Brienne, for the first time in a long time she felt like a child once more, crying out for her mother.

Brienne strode over in two large sweeps of her long legs and embraced her. Sansa buried her face into the woman's broad shoulders. She felt so fragile at this moment, no longer the confident and sure Lady she had always been but now just a frightened woman reeling with thoughts in emotions. She parted from Brienne "W-what do I do?" she choked out, her voice croaking.

She sniffed and wiped her nose and eyes with the sleeve of her gown. Brienne put her hands on her shoulders, gripping them firmly. "It is your decision Sansa, I will do whatever you need me too, I swear." Sansa looked into the firm resolve filling Brienne's eyes, she drew strength from this. "I...I should get rid of it...I should...but...I...I'm afraid...what happens?" 

Brienne nodded "I will talk with the Maester, you stay here." Sansa nodded and curled up on her bed laying on her side, a hand falling gently down to her stomach then crawling up to clap itself over her mouth as she began to sob.

_Brienne of Tarth_

Brienne stormed through the halls, her long strides carrying her quickly to her destination. People dashed out of her way, she was a like a great warhorse trampling through the halls of the stable no one dare get in her way. Hurridly she took the stairs skipping them two at a time as she pushed her way ever onwards.

Finally, she made it to the Maester's quarters. Maester Wolkan jumped at her sudden intrusion into his space. He was shuffling around a great many papers on his desk. Brienne closed the door tightly behind her. Taking three steps she crossed the room and stood in front of the man. Maester Wolkan was a younger Maester perhaps only forty and five or so. He was amiable if not a bit timid, but he seemed very sharp-minded and was well-liked by everyone.

"The knowledge you just procured does not get told to anyone," Brienne commanded her tone shifting drastically low. "You do not speak it or breathe a word of it, do you understand?" Maester Wolkan quietly nodded, sweat beading his brow. "Lady Sansa is unsure if she wishes to keep the child considering its father, what options does she have available?"

Wolkan swallowed audibly then nodded "I...usually I would have the ingredients for Moon Tea...but." Brienne glared at him. "But..." he continued on his voice low. "The late Lord Ramsey had all the ingredients destroyed and I have been unable to procure fresh supplies...it is winter, even the plants in the greenhouse were destroyed."

Brienne's stomach dropped as she leaned forward on the table. "That shit." she cursed staring down at the wood. "He wanted to make sure..." Wolkan added Brienne glared at him silencing him effectively. "I heard rumors of women in King Landing, they would use long thin rods boiled in water and-" Brienne began but Wolkan cut her off "Far too dangerous! There are risks of bleeding out or puncturing of her organs entirely making her sterile...not to mention infection."

Brienne ran her hand through her short curls. She frowned as her mind raced for ideas. Moon Tea was their best and safest option, although even that had risks as well. But she would not force her Lady to carry a child she did not want. But neither did she want Sansa to die while trying to abort it. "How far along is she?" she asked out loud.

Wolkan sighed "I would put her at a month and a half maybe two months." Brienne frowned again they were running out of time. Perhaps they would be lucky and she would miscarry? Brienne pushed the thought from her mind, she should not wish for that on anyone, not with the pain and suffering her own mother had gone through, it was a terrible and horrible ordeal.

"Let me consult some books, perhaps I can find another recipe similar to Moon Tea." Brienne nodded "Very well, do what you can...and remember," she said shooting daggers into the man's eyes. "Not. A. Word," she growled out lowly before turning on her heel and marching back up to console Sansa once more, to deliver the dreaded news that as of now, they had no options available for her.

_Jaime Lannister_

So far, he was alive, a fact that still surprised him. Unconsciously he reached his hand to his neck to make sure his head was still attached. Throughout the evening he had watched and heard as a hush began to fall over Winterfell. Quiet murmuring and fear beginning to take hold. He had seen enough wars and battles to know the calm before the storm.

He had known this feeling well, he lived it and had learned to accept it. His life was that of a soldiers, no matter how much gold he wore or how fancy a horse he rode he lived for the battlefield, for the rush of blood as an enemy charged forward, the scream of man and horse as they clashed against one another, the din of battle roaring through his head.

There were times when he hated war and the bloodshed, but then at other times, a more primal and animal mind surged through his veins, the need for it, a thirst that felt unquenchable an itch that needed to be scratched. It seemed a war raged on within him at all times. One side that stood against the abhorrent violence and pain and suffering, and another that screamed out for blood, to show no mercy and to constantly chase his enemies tattered forces.

He stood calmly with his men, lined shoulder to shoulder mixed in with the other infantry forces on the grounds below Winterfell's walls. He thought back to the many conversations that he had today. After his meeting in the war room, which was strained and awkward for all parties involved but he had come to see that Jon Snow although inexperienced was a good and level headed leader.

His brother Tyrion as always had many good ideas but Jaime was unsure of the practicality of them. The strange-sounding man...Gray something had an excellent military mind of not crude and to the point. Ser Jorah had remained stern and silent in the corner, the great grizzled bear mindfully watching. The greatest surprise in the room beside of course the SIX dragons, a tale that took Tyrion several times to explain to him.

But the next surprise was the young man Korb who had a very sound military mind, he was practical yet also creative, he could understand the inner workings of how men fought and reacted on the battlefield more so than any other in the room except of course for him. Watching the boy explain his tactics and strategy ideas made Jaime think back to the dusty old days in his father's study as he set up battles on his war map and showed Jaime how they played out.

 _'The Battle of Last Storm, the Battle of Ashford, the Battle of the Bells, all of them I can remember in detail thanks to him'_ Thinking of his father made a small pang of sadness filled his heart. He never got the closure he needed. Although he loved his brother Tyrion greatly and had accepted the fact of his father's passing he still couldn't help but feel some form of anger and grief when he thought of the great Tywin Lannister, his own father dead on the chamber pot.

A gust of cold wind paused his thinking momentarily. "Mother's Tits it is  _COLD_ " he growled out, even his precious gray cloak did not seem to have the ability to keep the biting wind at bay. He heard a familiar click of disgust and turned to Brienne who shook her head. "What?" he asked accusingly Brienne shot a daggered glare at him but he could sense her playful tone.

"Knights shouldn't take the god's name in vain." She instructed. Jaime rolled his eye "How would you know, you are not a Knight." The barb might have hit a little too close to home, he could see her visual twinge of pain. Jaime cleared his throat "Apologies Brienne, it's just so cold and the wind so strong I fear my manners may have blown away."

The attempt at a joke did not seem to be lost on her for once. The barest of smiles met her lips before disappearing as one of the dragons swooped over. With a loud cry, a bright red one landed nearby Daenerys Targaryen several hundred feet in front of them. The DragonQueen had a black dragon, this one Jaime remembered from the Attack on the GoldRoad, that beast had burned several hundreds of his men alive and here he was having it defend him now.

He remembered up on the wall Tyrion commenting on how both him and Jaime were here helping defend Winterfell when for so long they had been enemies. Jaime watched the red dragon settle in, it was larger than the black one the Queen had. Apparently, from what Tyrion told him, the woman Lady Dilis, was Daenerys DragonKeeper and came from some long line of secret Keepers....and somehow had kept four dragons in Westeros with no one finding out, a fact he found very hard to believe...but there in front of him was all the evidence.

Tyrion never told him her first name, only called her by 'The Lady Dilis' and from what Jaime had heard from overhearing conversation was that she was a strange woman but also a beautiful one, apparently on par with both Sansa Stark and Daenerys Targaryen herself, although he was unsure if he could ever find violet eyes warming or inviting.

Jaime stood mulling over random thought in his head, sometimes when he waited for battle he made up random scenarios in his head and thought through how he would get through them. What if he sprouted wings? What would he do, how would he cope with the ability to fly? What if he was granted three wishes? He knew then and now what he would wish for Tommen and Myrcella back, the end to all this misery. 

The undead army seemed to be a waiting game. All around him torches burned and men and horse stood waiting quietly. Stern faced, dark and reserved to their fates they waited. Above the clear night sky twinkled thousands of stars down upon them, a blanket of lights to illuminate the darkness around them. Strangely enough, the sky seemed so much brighter and clearer for Jaime, he even commented out loud to Brienne "The sky is so beautiful up here, never seen so many stars."

He glanced over at Brienne, her eyes were gazing up into the night sky as well, thousands of stars reflecting in her large blue orbs. Her skin was white and pale, her lips and cheeks red from the cold, the fur fringe of her armor blowing in the wind and the glint and gleam of the torches reflected off her armor, yet at that moment all he saw was her, everything else faded away unnecessary filler that blocked his vision, and at that moment he realized exactly what his heart had been telling him for so long.

As soft as he could under his breath he swore, the wind ripping it away from his throat before a noise the sound of a hundred glaciers crumbling reverberated in the air around him. He and many others looked around confused, the hair on his neck standing on end his teeth gritted, he glanced over and saw Brienne stand resolute, she gave him a cursory 'Good look' look before he turned back to she the fist shadows as the army of dead men sprinted towards them.


	36. Chapter 36 - The First of Many Tears -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long in-between chapters, I have been very busy lately. Happy Labor Day!  
> Warning: Graphic Description of death ahead.

_Sigligon Dilis_

Sigligon stretched and kept her fingers working as she sat upon Mele's back. The red dragon dozed quietly as they waited for the undead. They had sat out here in the elements for almost two hours now. She turned and looked over at her arrow quivers. Four of them were strapped behind her, each filled with at least fifty dragonglass arrows each. One her back was strapped her double-sided glaive. She had always tried to think of a name for it but still had not yet thought of one that fit. The night was chilly but did not seem as cold as it had been the previous night.

She cast her eyes upwards as she sighed, her breath floating up into the night in a puff of fog. Sigligon chuckled at this and blew a larger breath of hot air out of her lungs, she imagined herself a tiny fledgling dragon just beginning to breathe fire. She heard a dry chuckle to her left, glancing over she met Daenerys violet eyes gleaming in the starlit sky. Her skin and hair were so pale they seemed to glow in the light, matching with her white dress of ermine and mink. "You are a strange woman Sigligon Dilis, but I somehow do not find a fault in this."

Sigligon closed her mouth and lowered her head slightly. "Apologies I sometimes forget that I am not alone anymore." Daenerys turned her head and looked out into the darkness ahead of them, the trenches before them had not yet been lit so as to not waste fuel. Sigligon silently waited for Daenerys to reply. "I suppose it is a difficult thing, to be suddenly part of so much activity, from what you described I would say it's a stark contrast to what you're used to," Daenerys mentioned turning her eyes back to meet Sigligons. Absently the Queen stroked the bony frills of Drogon.

Sigligon had relaxed back into her saddle and was studying over her bow that lay in her lap, looking for any wear on the string. "I and Viserys were alone when we were growing up." Sigligon glanced up from her bow and turned back to Daenerys. She was staring off into the distance her eyes felled with a bitter sadness. "He was all I had, all I knew, I was in a strange place with people who did not look like me...he sold off everything we had to keep us fed, when we ran out of food Viserys would steal and fight for every last crumb to feed me...he cared for me then...sometimes I forget about those days."

Daenerys went quiet for a few moments, slowly her head turned to Sigligon. "He would watch over me while I slept, sometimes we cowered in back allies, other times we found spots in stables and abandoned buildings...there were times when we were good, a Noble family would take us in out of fashion, to be paraded around and entertained till they got bored of us...Viserys made sure to take what he could while he could, most rich people tend to not pay attention to just how many golden trinkets they have," Daenerys smirked at the thought.

"He would tell me it was only temporary, that we would find our true allies and take back our throne...he was so hopeful...but as time wore on I could see that hope die..." she paused, taking a breath and letting it go. "What replaced it was an anger...a hatred to the entire world...he had been broken in by cruelty and so cruelty was all that remained." Sigligon looked down, she wondered how she could survive a life like that, in comparison to Daenerys, Sigligon lived like a true Lady or even a princess, they had servants, guards, all the food they wanted although father never liked to purchase unnecessary things he bought other things just as expensive, books, tomes, rare ingredients from all over the world.

"I always wondered how he would have been if mother had been still alive...if any in my family still lived, would he be different? Changed in some way? I am told my brother Rheagaer was kind and strong and a good singer...would Viserys have been like him?" Daenerys questioned her face drawing up in deep thought. "There is no way to tell My Queen...it could be that he might have been different, but it could be he still would have developed just the same," Sigligon answered Daenerys gently, stroking Mele's frills relishing in the heat the dragon gave off.

"If mother had not died for the sake of me perhaps many things would have been different," Daenerys stated her eyes wide and glistening, not yet crying but very close to pouring forth. Sigligon felt a heat rise inside her. "No!" she said sternly, her voice making Mele perk up for a second before shuffling beneath her back to sleep. "Do not ever think that about yourself," she said sternly her eyes boring into Daenerys. Daenerys lifted her brows in shock, her face blank. Quickly Sigligon softened her face and words. 

"My mother died for me as well...for a long while I thought my father judged me for this...when I would see kids with their moms out on the street I would feel guilty and sad, knowing I would never have that feeling." Sigligon cast her eyes downward her heart suddenly heavy. A silence filled the air for a few seconds, only the gentle whistle of the wind could be heard and the occasional crackle of fires. "I remember on one of my Name day's I told my father that he didn't have to celebrate it...that I knew he was hurt from the loss of my mother, but he shushed me and pulled me close...then he told me something my mother said to him while she lay dying."

Sigligon closed her eyes, a tear carved a path down her cheek before its trail froze to her face. Sigligon tilted her head upwards and opened her eyes to gaze at the stars that twinkled and shone brightly above them. _"Jovern...tell her I love her, tell her I will always love her, and that not to blame her for any of this, If I die for her then it's worth it, for a mother's life comes second to her child's."_ Sigligon slowly drifted her gaze downwards than to Daenerys who had a few frozen streaks running down the length of her face. 

Daenerys lifted a sleeve to her face and wiped away her tears sniffling as she did. "After that, I felt...better about myself, I didn't feel guilty for existing because I knew my mother wouldn't have it any other way...parents will always give up their own lives for their child's...that is what makes them parents." A reflective silence filled the air between them.

"You are right...when I lost my son Rheago, I felt like I wanted to die, I felt like it should have been me not him, he was innocent." Sigligon remained silent as Daenerys confessed, she had not known Daenerys had a child. "I'm sorry" she whispered out not knowing if Daenerys could even hear her. The Queen must have for she made the smallest of nods, she looked up into the sky, Sigligon followed her eyesight. 

"They are beautiful tonight," Sigligon commented. Daenerys nodded once more "yes" she replied softly. "It doesn't seem fair for men to die beneath such beauty." As if on cue, a massive sound filled the air. To Sigligon it was a deep rumbling and cracking sound, ice being broken on a pond only much louder and more powerful, the air shivered around her.

Her hair standing on end both dragons woke up and glanced around growling lowly to themselves. The familiar marching sound of the undead, choirs of rattling bones and howling wind. In the darkness she heard the yelling of the brave teams of men who had sat behind the first trench, they called for the fires to be lit, in quick succession each trench was set alight, the fire springing to life and overtaking the darkness around it.

Sigligon and Daenerys prepared themselves, Sigligon tightened the straps to her legs and prepared a few of the arrows, she squinted her eyes and watched as the enemy tide advanced unto the first trench. Suddenly they stopped, the entire army came to a halt in front of the first trench. Sigligon like everyone else stared confused, what was going on?

With bated breath, Sigligon surveyed as the army walked forward, one soldier at a time, into the trench, but unlike last night they did not hit the entire line, instead, they targeted specific points in the trench. Maximizing their deaths to the full advantage they tossed themselves to their demise to wear down that point in the trench until it was safe for the others to pass through. 

It took them perhaps a half hour to wear down the first trench, as the army marched and advanced through and begin to fill in the area between the first and second trench Sigligon and Daenerys nodded to one another before taking off into the sky, both of them racing forward setting the field ablaze with fire destroying the first wave of the undead.

After that they separated and began to cut through the horde in key points, Sigligon making sure to help destroy the numbers of undead beginning to converge to the Knights of the Vale while Daenerys moved in to protect her Dothraki. On Mele's back she overlooked the battle, smoke from the fires drifted up, every so often they had to dodge out of the way of the trebuchets ammo, burning balls of flames or barrels filled with dragonglass shards ready to burst open on impact.

As she looked down from her great height she could see the swirling sea of black, work it's way closer and closer to Winterfell's walls. Sigligon gulped and shivered as she gripped tighter to Mele ready to bring him down to burn once more, but before she did she uttered a small prayer for the gods to watch over Korb and keep him safe. With that, she descended like a great eagle swooping down upon its prey, and before her hundred of dead burned and fell leaving only ash and dust in her wake.

_Korb Hills_

"Aim! Draw!... _F_ _IRE!!!"_ He bellowed to his men. He watched as their arrows curved through the sky like a flock of blackbirds before landing and finding their marks downing out a small portion of the undead. Korb nodded satisfied, they were getting better, the hour or so of drill practice he had put into them before the siege helped greatly.

Although not officially their commander, Korb had fallen in as a de facto leader to them when no one else would. There were poor farmers and craftsmen who everyone else seemed to overlook, but not Korb he had decided that they were not worthless and that they had something to offer them all. All of them were now at a level where they could gauge which of the four 'sets' to use and draw their bows to loose fire.

Korb very rarely had to fix their process, only now and then did he intervene or adjust their aims. Although they had gotten better many still did not consider the wind when aiming, something he would have to work on he would imagine. The dead had made it to the last trench, just before the infantry.

He stood back on his usual place the wall proper and began to fire off arrow after arrow he could not count how many he used but he had to stop and rest now and then, sometimes he would switch arms and fire and aim the bow with his other. 'Ambidextrous' is what Jovern had called it, the ability to wield with both hands equally.

Briefly, he thought back to when he was first learning to write. Sigligon had kept telling him to use the had that felt best but to him both were fine. When he was able to show Sigligon that he could right as equally well with both hands she had gone running to Jovern unsure of what to do. Jovern had laughed ruffled his hair and said that Korb was just a well of potential.

Korb remembered this memory well, the way his chest had swelled with pride, the feeling of being acknowledged and cared for. That was only the first of many pleasant memories with Jovern, a man that he soon grew to see as his father, if not by blood then by choice just as Sigligon was his sister. The call of Kastamere brought Korb out of his memories, the blue dragon circled about Winterfell with Rheagal both dragons burning dead on their own accords, Korb could see Rheagal was not as fluid in battle as he had been before but he was still a dragon that could breathe fire so he doubted Rheagal would be in any trouble.

Ahead of him in the sky, he could see Daenerys and Sigligon astride their dragons carving paths into the enemy lines helping to impede the great mass of dead. It was insane to him how there could be this many dead? But, as he thought a little harder it made sense, people have been dying for generations long before he was born, the dead would always outnumber the living.

He shivered as a sudden burst of wind blew across his neck and down his back. He turned and surveyed the scene below him inside the walls of Winterfell. Trebuchets being loaded and fired, men running to and fro from the walls carrying barrels of dragonglass arrows, men who had not been injured severely were helping to craft more and refill the barrels. 

Everyone was working together and helping it made Korb for a second feel as if he was apart of something greater, a sense of unity and purpose. He turned back to the enemy. Large masses were trampling their way towards them, it took a few seconds for Korb to make out their forms.  _By the Strangers arse, those are BEARS!_ he may have thought this in his head but he couldn't be sure.

Not as large as Mammoths but perhaps more ferocious and much faster, they thundered over the ground, gray and white sagging fur with massive heads toting even larger jaws filled with fangs for ripping, shredding, and crushing paws larger than a man's head decorated with four-inch black claws. Bears where deadly in their living form now in an undead form they had to fight them?

Two of the bears crashed into the final trench, shattering of course into ash and dust but the force of their charge had broken through. One by one undead were scrounging through that point in the trench and were now running screaming ungodly towards the infantry. The Unsullied had already set themselves into their usual 'turtle' formation lines. Shields drew up, and their long spears pointed forward going over the shoulder of the man in front of them.

Behind them, the swordsmen of the living army began to square up all of them taking stances that best suited them. Korb glanced down to the front lines of the Infantry, true to his word Jaime was standing there out in front of his men his sword drawn and him slightly hunched over as he readied himself. Next to him the tall shieldmaiden Brienne both standing next to one another ready to die together if need be.

Korb was surprised when Jaime had said he would be out in front with his men, usually, generals stay to the back to lead, but Jaime explained that his men looked to him as a role model, he would not stand behind them and watch them die instead he would set the example and show he was willing to die and fight for them.

Korb had to respect the Kingslayer even if he still did not trust him or like him. If there was one thing he could say about him it was that he was intelligent in warfare and knew how to command respect. Korb shot down a few of the dead as they ran towards the Unsullied, but Korb could already see the problem at hand, the trench was faltering in more places now and a larger tide was coming through, it wouldn't be long now.

Korb wrangled with the idea of going down there and assisting but something told him to stay here for now. He glanced over to King Jon, the man stood where Ser Davos had been the night previous, where he oversaw the entire battle. He stood strong and defiant his black hair drawn back and slick with sweat as he yelled out orders in a rather calm fashion. 

Above the King, flew Rheagal in a protective circle, the Northern King must have somehow built a bond of trust with the dragon, but in such a short matter of time, it surprised Korb. He glanced over to where Kastamere flew, the blue dragon swooped down and burned away a hundred or so dead, but as fast as they disappeared they were replaced. The dead finally clashed against the Unsullied, the Unsullied line held for a few minutes as the deads numbers were not yet enough to overtake them, but foot by foot the Unsullied were pressed backward.

Korb gritted his teeth and continued to knock and fire arrows at will, as well as all the rest on the walls. A heated fervor built inside him, he could not let these creatures breach these walls, or else all would be lost. Above him, four dragons swirled in the skies above raining down torrents of flames, black, red, blue and green swirled all around them in a dazzling display, all of them aimed at the dead.

Pitch and oil barrels were brought over to the top of the walls and were being readied, Korb was forced to abandon his perch. He instead stood on top of a few crates near the top of the stairs. The small distance change did nothing to his ability to fire quickly and efficiently and his men were sure enough in their abilities to fire without the need of him.

Then the sound of crushing wood echoed from behind the walls, had a trebuchet snapped? Korb spun around and fervently scanned the area below him. Nothing seemed to be amiss, but there was a large group of men running towards the main gate their weapons drawing. In the light, he was just able to spot the tall and familiar Ser Jorah aside a smaller armored figure that looked to be a child? They were cut off from Korb's vision, but he could hear the insistent pounding of something large against wood, and that was when he put it together, something was at the main gate.

_Ser Jorah_

He had been out on the battlefield until a skeletal creature perhaps a wolf or a dog had taken down his horse. He remembered being tossed, a fall that could have been deadly had it not been for the snow. But he could not stay down for long, he rose to see thousands of Dothraki riders ululating as they ran their horses around cutting through the dead.

He had to dodge and weave his way through, defending himself against the dead on the ground but also the Dothraki on horseback who in their bloodlust could not decipher him from the enemy soldiers. He and a few other Dothraki who had been thrown made their tumultuous way back to Winterfell, going through a small well hidden and guarded side gate.

Once there he parted from the others, they had gone off to get other horses but he had decided perhaps to go to be with the main infantry out front since he had no other horse to spare. It was calmer inside the walls of Winterfell, not by much but there was no threat of a dead man attacking you here. He took the time to catch his breath and wipe sweat from his brow as he quickly cleaned off his blade, it wasn't Valyrian but Dragonglass will still sharp and strong against any of the dead, it could cut off a horses head in one blow but could most likely fall to pieces if it blocked a normal steel blade.

He heard a familiar voice. "Resting while the others fight cousin?" He turned to see his young cousin Lyanna standing with her men, the bear of House Mormont emboldened on her chest. "No my Lady." He stated calmly "I lost my horse so I am to go out with the Infantry." Lyanna nodded to him she was a stern girl the weight of the world rested on her shoulders, a familiarity he knew all too well.

"We are going there now, the dead have begun to breach the final trench." Gravely he nodded his mouth contorting into a grim frown. Lyanna tilted her head slightly. "Perhaps you should fight with us, bears should stand together." He nodded accepting her invitation "As you wish My Lady." She walked forward head held high, he remembered just before battle his failed attempt at getting her to go into the crypts, but she like him and his father and all of his house, was stubborn. He thought back to what she had said  _'I will not hide underground, I pledged to fight_   _for the North and I will fight.'_ The way she looked at him then her voice stern and unbreaking matching her voice and the willfulness in her eyes.

 _'A bear through and through'_ he had thought then and even now. He fell into place behind his cousin, most of her men accepted him without question. They were young none of them truly knew who he was, although they probably wondered. The men who had known of his sins had all died from either age or the wars fought by Robb Stark.

He thought back to Lynesse, he had not thought of her in a long time. She was beautiful, pale skin and blonde hair, traditional beauty of oldtown. He had wanted so much for them, he did his best to suit her needs, but all she wanted was more. It drove him to do unspeakable things, things that caused him to lose honor and respect, forced his father to take to Black our of sadness and the need to retain some of his families honor.

When word came that Eddard Stark was coming to deliver the King's Justice, he ran, the plan was to take Lynesse but she instead fled South back to home in Oldtown, what came of her he never knew till much later, she must have been pardoned and then got an annulment to him so that she could marry another, then she was gone forever a black stain on his life that would never wash away.

A thundering sound brought him out of his thoughts. Ser Jorah drew his blade out of habit and looked around but he saw no origin for the sound. Others were staring around like him eyes critically scanning every last thing around them. Then the sound came again, he like many others turned to the East gate. It rattled in its place, parts of it splintering and cracking as the ramming sound echoed on. 

The men on the wall above them screamed for oil and pitch and they shot furiously from their position. Ser Jorah swallowed, somehow a small portion of the enemies forces were at their gate and making good time in its destruction. The wood was falling apart, whatever force it was holding back was far superior to it. Men rushed forward to attempt to brace it but Jorah knew bracing it would do no good. 

He yelled at them to get back and ready arrows, he rushed forward standing ready aside Lyanna. They both shared a look before the door finally was battered in, cracking in half with one mighty snap. Busting through the door in a wild charge an undead giant followed by several dead foot soldiers. The giant was half-decayed, one side of its skull still fleshy while the other was eaten through to the bone, two eerie blue eyes stared down at them as it lifted a great maul and swiped several men aside in a single sweep.

Jorah grabbed Lyanna and threw to the ground and away from the giant's backhanded swing. He felt the rush of wind as the maul just grazed the air above his head. He rolled forward and to his feet. Three dead came running at him. He swung upwards slashing one across the chest, it crumpled to the ground disintegrating. 

Lyanna rushed forward growling beneath her breath as she plunged her short sword into the deadman's torso, it to shatter. The third leapt upon her. Her and Jorah screamed and he plunged the sword into it's back then pulled Lyanna up, a cloud of dust and ashes covering her as she coughed her eyes wide not with fear but just surprise. 

She coughed out a quiet thank-you but Jorah had to once again push her aside as the giant swung his maul downwards towards them. He grunted with effort as he rolled away, knees and back protesting as his armor weighed him down. He staggered up the giant turned it's attention to him. Jorah glanced around him scanning for any other dangers as he gripped his sword with both hands.

The giant shambled forward screeching while swinging its massive maul in large sweeping motions. All Jorah needed was a good opening, one touch of this blade should destroy this blasted thing. Suddenly something hit him from behind, sending him spiraling towards the swinging maul. Out of sheer luck, it missed his head, the very edge of the maul did however graze his shoulder. 

He felt the snap of bone and the sudden feeling of thousands of pins and needles stabbing into his arm with great force. The pain made him dizzy and blackness danced at the edges of his vision threatening to take him whole. He roared out in agony, his other arm swinging wildly with the Dragonglass blade, instinct guiding it.

His other arm began to throb with great heat, and the pain made him want to cut it off immediately. He was at the giant feet, they were so large, a single lift of its leg and a few more inches and his life would be over. But the giant was not paying attention to him, instead, it was turning Jorah followed the motion his eyes fading in and out of focus.

Lyanna! She roared as she charged forward her lips in a snarl her eyes burning in rage. The giant backhanded her she went flying end over end till her body struck against the nearby wall. She rolled down the wall, landing at its foot and lay still. Jorah felt a great tide of anger build up inside him. He screamed as he forced his body into a sitting position swinging his blade towards the giant's leg.

Adrenaline filling his veins with strength allowing him to ignore the pain for now. He swung his blade down at the massive tree trunk legs, only for his attack to be narrowly avoided by the giant as it stepped backward spinning it's maul, several other men went flying clattering into nearby walls and objects. Jorah managed to roll into a kneeling position, then with great struggle he forced himself to stand, gritting his teeth and breathing haggardly he pushed past his pain.

His right arm hung limply at his side but he did not care. He brought his blade forward, the giants back were turned as it smashed its way through nearby, somehow not a single arrow seemed to be able to take it down, perhaps the thick layers of fur it wore were to thick? It mattered not, all Jorah cared about was the fact it was still standing and he needed it gone once and for all.

Staggering forward he half limped half-ran forward, watching the giants movements as he did so. He aimed for the leg nearest to him bringing his sword arm up he prepared to swing it down, only a few more steps, the giant was still distracted. Time seemed to slow down, Jorah began to feel all too aware how loud his footsteps fell on the ground, the clatter of his armor as he moved, how loud his breath was.

The fires around him lit the world he could perceive in an orange glow, shadows danced vivid performances in the snow. Jorah glanced upwards, the giant's eye met him. Blue and blue locked and clashed. Without turning the giant leaned back its hand snatched around Jorah's arm, lifting him. Jorah cried out as the pain of having his entire's body weight rest on his one good arm and shoulder.

He kicked out wildly wishing desperately he could do something, anything. But he was helplessly suspended in the air for several seconds before he too felt himself be thrown. The weightless feeling as he spun end over end was strange and horrifying. He remembered curling himself as best he could wrap his good arm around his neck and head as much as he could before he impacted against a wooden beam.

He felt and heard the cracks as several of his ribs broke from the force of impact. His breath was taken he fell to the ground and stared up into the sky dazed. He lay there on his back for several seconds gasping to draw air but unable to, until finally and mercifully air once again filled his lungs. He gasped for air gulping great big mouthfuls down, his heartbeat wildly and all he could feel was pain.

Something in him told him to turn his head, perhaps it would a sound his brain noticed through the flood of burning pain pr perhaps it was something else, something higher. Whatever the reason, he turned his head and saw Lyanna. She half limped forward, blood trickled from her mouth and nose, a gash on her head. But despite her injuries, she stood proud and strong, she drew her blade than with a roar she charged forward, half limping and bleeding the young girl charged the massive beast.

The giant regarded her silently, it reached towards her and grabbed her hoisting her up to meet its eye. Jorah was unsure why it did this, why would it not just swipe her away as it had before. Jorah watched on, for a few seconds it looked like the giant was doing nothing, but then the sounds of armor buckling echoed and Jorah realized then what was happening.

He watched unable to move or do anything, only to lie there in agony and witness as his cousin, his last remaining flesh and blood get crushed inside the giant's fist. Lyanna grunted but refused to cry out in pain, with the last remaining effort she lunged forward and stuck her Dragonglass blade into the giants blue eye.

Instantly the giant collapsed and Lyanna fell with the giant. Jorah dug down deep inside and forced himself unto his belly. The pain was monumental, daggers of fire leaping up and down his torso, side, and body. He ignored it and grappled at the ground before him pulling himself through snow, blood, and debris as he rushed to Lyanna.

The world fell away to him, the fighting and the noise all of it died out for him, his only goal was Lyanna. Scrabbling and kicking he managed to make it to her. She was gasping, blood welling from her lips and nose. She glanced down at him. With his one good hand, he fumbled at her armors latches, undoing a few to open up the chest piece. 

Relief flooded her for a few seconds. But Jorah grimly surveyed her injuries. The armor had buckled and crushed ribs on both of her sides, as well as punctured and stabbed her abdomen, she bled freely from countless wounds. Too much blood too many wounds, and from the sounds of it the blood was making its way into her lungs, she would drown in her own blood in a few minutes.

She swallowed and licked her lips, "I...I pledged....t-...to fight." Jorah nodded "You did..." he coughed his injuries causing him trouble to speak. "You....you stood...and fought....like a true...bear" he gasped out. Lyanna smiled softly despite the situation. "G-good" she choked out blood bubbling at her lips, Jorah's heart sank, so see someone so young die in such a way.

"L...let me die...a b..ear...not...drowning..." she whispered to him, Jorah shuddered as he felt tears welling into his eyes. He swallowed back blood and his pride. He nodded understanding, both of them understanding. "L...last words?" he asked softly, drawing his blade up. She gave a small nod. "Y-you...are the last...bear...I forgive...your....s...s..sinssss...take...the...h-house..." Her eyes closed for a second and a small cough rattled in her lungs.

Jorah's jaw quivered as he swept hair away from her face. "I..." she said her eyes still closed. Jorah paused his blade now pointing to her heart but he had not yet put pressure. They fluttered open and stared up into the sky, the stars reflecting on her blank expression, for a moment he thought she had passed but she slowly opened her mouth "I...wish you....good fortune.....I...in...the...wars....t-to...come." She wrapped her small fingers around his own that held the blade to her heart.

Together they pushed the blade forward, her body startled at the blade's sharp entry but Jorah quickly pushed the blade forward and plunged it into the still-beating heart of Lyanna. She choked for a second more then a long slow gasp escaped her as her heart stilled beneath his blade. Jorah withdrew the blade then lay there sobbing as his last kin left this world, all the while her eyes stared up into the clear starry sky.

He had no fight left in him, he was a beaten man who somehow refused to die even though he wished he would. Her sacrifice had saved them, with the giant defeated the men and archers were able to push back the small invading force and close the remains of the doors. They barricaded them with what they could at the time, Jorah noticed all this in the back of his mind, comprehension just barely sinking through the cracks, somewhere in the impending darkness that was beginning to take him he heard that the dead had reached the top of the walls.

 

 


	37. Chapter 37 - The Crypts -

_Korb Hills_

Korb's fingers felt raw from the amount of firing he had done, but he had to keep going, the men were retreating now him, the dragons, and all the other archers were covering as the infantry and mounted men retreated. The Infantry pouring into Winterfell's walls while the mounted units were told to fall back into the Wolfswood. There they hid within a network of caves that resided in the woods, this is where the men could hold out if need be, told only to return when a signal horn was blasted three times. The infantry within the walls of Winterfell split into different groups.

Some helped brace the doors, others helped get the sick and injured into the main keep. Others picked up bows and joined in the defenses on the walls. The ramparts were beginning to fill up with men, Korb felt almost trapped having a sea of bodies pressed in around him. He watched as the endless tide of dead washed over the shattered remains of the trenches. He felt queasy staring at them all, Sigligon and Daenerys, as well as Kastamere and Rheagal, were doing their best but even that seemed to not be enough.

He heard a voice cry out over the rest "They are climbing the walls!" Korb hardened his jaw and leaped from his barrel back to a spot on the wall proper. He looked down, by the gods why did he look? A sense of dread washed over him as he stared into the dark bottomless pits of gnashing mouths, decrepit hands clawing their way at the ancient stones of Winterfell. Blank, blue eyes glowed in the darkness, a sea of blue orbs floating in rotten faces. Taking a deep breath he pushed the feat inside him down. He knocked an arrow and fired, aiming for the larger and more agile climbers, making sure they did not make it to the top. 

On both sides of him, hot oil and pitch were being poured. The heat of the flames bringing feeling back into his face. The smell of burning flesh, ash and blood, filled the air around him. Destruction and madness pounded at each one of his senses, all the while he felt hope fade. No matter how many he shot down more filled their place, he was fighting a losing side, there had to be something to stop them, something to get rid of them. He paused for a moment and looked out at the swirling sea of black when he noticed something.

Five creatures stood apart from the rest, a small boundary circled them were none of the other dead seemed to cross. These were different from the ones Korb had been killing all night. Glacier blue skin and clear blue eyes and each had long white hair flowing down freely. They stood still and calm, reflective pools of composure within a sea of chaos. These were the generals! He had heard Jon and a few others speak of them. Korb turned towards where the King was, he stood aside Ser Davos, bow in hand he fired away with his men. 

Smoke and ash covered his face while frost settled on his beard and hair. Korb ran along the wall proper, keeping his balance was an easy thing for him he had rode on Kastamere's back long enough to keep his balance on a stone unmoving wall. The King had fewer men up near him so Korb found it easier to make his way to him. Korb stood beside the King and fired off a few arrows as he spoke. "Your grace!? Question!" Jon shot a daggered look at him "Kinda busy at the moment!" Both men continued their assault while attempting to carry on this conversation. 

"The five generals over there...if we killed them would all these go away?" He asked nodding his head towards the five Wights. Jon paused and glanced over as if noticing them for the first time. He squinted the looked up at Korb. "I didn't see them before...but usually if you kill the head the body will fall." Korb grinned to himself despite the situation.

His grin was wiped off of his face when he felt something grab his foot. He fell backward, knocking into a large object. Korb now on his rump stared down to his feet where the torso of an undead creature screamed up at him, it's hands grasping his ankle. He swore and kicked it away, a man danced into Korb's vision, it was Samwell Tarly!

He plunged a sword into the creature, a feat that seemed to take a great deal of concentration Sam fighting with the sword's weight in his hands. Korbs eyes wandered up and down the blade, it was ornate but practical, while also being Valyrian steel. Korb stood tossing his bow aside as several more undead began to pull themselves over the merlons and embrasures.

Quickly Korb drew  _DragonsFang_ from its sheath and hacked away at a few of the undead. More of them were climbing up and over, his heart racing he watched as Ser Davos struggled to hold one back, it screamed in his face and it's jaws clacked together as it tried to bite him. Korb saw Jon turn and kill the creature with his blade  _Longclaw._

Korb moved in and defended the King's exposed side. Several men rushed forward to help defend the King. Ser Davos yelled at Jon "Jon! We must fall back!" Jon shook his head and glared "I will not!" Jon then turned swinging his blade up and down into the head of an advancing dead man who wore the blackened armor of the Night's Watch.

Korb turned and saw Samwell fall to the ground, three dead upon him. Jon screamed and leaped towards Sam, Korb assisting. Together they killed the dead, Sam rose his face flustered and sweat beading his brows his sword dangling from his hands. Korb frowned and turned to grab a nearby Dragonglass dagger from the weapons rack behind him.

He put a hand on Sam's shoulder then held the dagger out to him. "It would be best to have a weapon you can wield consistently versus one you have to struggle to hold." Sam nodded meekly his eyes wide with fear. Currently, several Stark men-at-arms were fighting off the seizing tide of dead attempting to climb over the battlements.

Sam took the dagger, Korb took the Valyrian blade, it was heavier than  _DragonsFang_ but Korb could adjust to its weight easily. He turned to Sam "I am borrowing this for a second, I will see you after the battle." With that he stepped forward wielding both blades he spun them over his wrists before striking down several dead in quick succession, his body moving by instinct the blades melding and becoming part of his arms.

A red dragon swooped over and sprayed the front of the tower in red and gold flames. The fires glowed and were reflected by the swords steel. Korb squinted his eyes as his sight was overtaken by the intensity of red and gold. Mele's fires had given them all a few seconds of respite. Enough time to let the men near Korb stare at him in surprise for wielding two Valyrian blades at once.

Korb turned and spotted the five generals. Tightly he gripped both blades before returning  _DragonsFang_ into its scabbard. He then dug out his whistler from beneath his armor. Bringing it up to his lips he warmed them quickly by pressing them together before then pressing them against the warm wood of the whistle.

A succession of three short bursts carried high above the battle as Korb called Kastamere down from the sky. The blue dragon gleamed in the starlight as he plunged headfirst towards Korb. Korb couldn't stop the smile that came to his face as he watched the sea-colored dragon instantly answer his call. The dragon spread his wings wide as he landed on the merlons of the tower. 

A slight swaying and creaking came from the dragon's bulk being nestled on the precipice of the tower. Men ducked and dove away from the dragon, even a sea of undead seemed to preferable to the massive fire breathing creature. Korb put a handout and touched Kastamere's cheek. Heat radiated through Korbs hands and up through his arm.

The dragon huffed and blew a stream of hot air into Korb's face. Korb turned back to Jon and Ser Davos "I'm going to go thin this herd out." He then leapt up and grabbed on the straps of Kastamere's saddle. With an effort he hauled himself up unto the dragons back, he didn't even strap himself in he merely patted Kastamere's side thrice before Kastamere vaulted into the air the angry whirl of wind screaming in Korb's ears.

Kasta burned a path forward as Korb set his sights on the five generals who still stood in the position they had been, calmly overlooking the battle. Korb drew the blade he borrowed from Samwell Tarly then his own, holding both Valyrian steel blades he muttered a prayer to any god who would listen before he kicked Kastamere to dive down towards his targets.

The dragon spewed forth a cascade of bright blue flames cleaving down any undead that was nearby the generals. The flames burned high and true creating a flaming barrier cutting the footsoldiers off from their leaders. Kastamere tilted inwards to the left and Korb took his chance, wielding both blades he catapulted himself off the dragons back and fell towards the generals.

Diving down like a falcon takes a rabbit in the field, he gritted his teeth and braced for impact, he had only been fifteen feet or so above them but those fifteen feet seemed to take a lifetime to fall. All the while one of the generals stared upwards at him, emotionless until a hand began to reach for the blade at its side, Korb roared out bringing both blades down, steel resounded out against ice and for a small second Korb was floating in place glaring into the eyes of one of the undead generals.

_Missandei of  Naarth_

Missandei at the beginning of the night sat quietly to herself, clutching a bag of books that the Lady Sigligon had shoved into her hands before the battle started. The crypts of Winterfell were well lit, and were rather pleasant to sit in, although a tad cold there were enough fire and people to keep the area at a comfortable temperature.

Across from her sat Tyrion who as usual was sipping a cup of wine. He offered some to anyone who looked to him but most didn't partake. Being down in the crypts again made her uneasy, it felt like they had just been there, doing the same thing cowering in the shadows while above them the uncomfortable silence carried on.

She breathed in the dry musty air and tried to think of things to keep her mind occupied. She imagined dolphins swimming in the sea the sound of their laughter tickling her ears, the swaying of grapevines in the wind, the plumpness of the fruit as its juices burst in her mouth coating the entirety of it with its tart and sweet flavor.

She imagined the way Grayworm's lips moved as he spoke, as he leaned in and whispered his breath falling softly against her skin. The way his lips trailed against her flesh tantalizing. She coughed and quickly pushed her mind into more wholesome thoughts. "What books did the Lady Dilis give you?" Tyrion's voice asked from across the room.

Missandei looked up then to the larger leather rucksack. Reaching down she picked it up and hoisted it over her shoulder before bringing it over to Tyrion. Tyrion moved over slightly and allowed her to sit on the bench with him. Setting the bag to the sandy floor of the crypt she opened it and reached inside. Fumbling around for a few seconds she brought out the first book  _'Tales from the Age of Heros'_ It was a thick book with a red cover, on the front was a series of seven blades pointed inwards to one another. 

Tyrion pointed to the swords "Those represent each of the Kingdom's of Westeros, back when they were separate." Missandei glanced to Tyrion then ran her hand across the cover. She flipped the book open, the pages parted to reveal a heavily dog eared page. It was the starting page of a chapter called  _'Lann the Clever'_ Tyrion grinned "How fateful, that you open the book to the section about my ancestor." 

Missandei snapped her head to Tyrion. "Truly? He is your ancestor?" She asked surprised. Tyrion shrugged "It is reported to be, but these tales are old, who knows how much stuff could have been changed from the original fact." Missandei frowned then thumbed through to the next section. "Du...Durran Godsgrief of Storm's End?" she read out loud confused.

Tyrion nodded "Yes, the founder of the now extinct house Durrandon." Missandei nodded "Why was he so important?" she asked and Tyrion grinned, then he cleared his throat and began to speak loudly and clearly so all nearby could hear. "Long ago, in the Age of Heros, a man wedded a goddess and faced the wrath of her divine parents..." He then spilled into an exciting tale of this man who built seven castles, all of which failed until the final one was able to hold out against the wrath of the gods.

Tyrion continued in saying that the man then ruled for a thousand years, and because of his goddess wife was able to learn and practice magic that granted the Durrandon's power and abilities. As Tyrion spoke one by one young children padded over and sat in front of them, listening to Tyrion's story enraptured and for the moment distracted from what was happening above ground.

After the story of Durran Godsgreif, Tyrion broke into a tale on Bran the builder, how he built the great wall of the Night's Watch with the aide of giants and the Children of the Forest, how he learned the True Tongue to do so. Not only that but he also built Winterfell itself, and all the King's of Winter lay buried here in this very crypt.

This, of course, frightened the children, but to Missandei at least it seemed they preferred it. Sometimes children loved scary stories, so Tyrion told them a tale of a poor Northern girl who went to deliver her ailing Gran a few sweets but when she got to her Gran's house she had found a Direwolf had eaten her. Missandei found herself just as enraptured as Tyrion told the ending of the story, how the wolf had tried to fool the girl by wearing her Gran's dress, but when the girl figured out what the wolf was up to she screamed and a nearby hedge Knight came to her rescue and cut open the wolf belly letting the Gran go free.

The children clapped at this and begged for more stories. Tyrion grinned down at the dozens of children that had swarmed in around him and her. "I'm afraid I need a rest, why don't I let my companion here tell one? Who knows the tale of Lann the Clever?" A few of the children raised their hands, while some of the others shrugged.

Tyrion grinned and motioned to Missandei to begin the story. Missandei opened the book and began to read making sure to inflect her voice and make the words she read sound warm and inviting as Tyrion had done to his. "The story of Lann the Clever is a popular but conflicting one, no Maester can say for sure how it was he swindled Casterly Rock from House Casterly, but it is believed..."

Missandei jumped into the Westerosi tale, finding it entertaining just how many ways people say Lann took Casterly Rock. But no matter the path he took it all ended the same, a hundred children with blonde hair and fair skin that settled in all the Westerlands. The children it seemed in Missandei's opinion seemed to like the Lion eating theory the best. When the story was finished Trion spoke and gave first-hand accounts of the possible 'ghost' sightings he had seen of Lann. This of course got the children going and to calm them down Missandei decided to start speaking of stories she had grown up with, the tale of the Elephant carver, the story of how willow trees were given their cats paws, a tale on an emperor who was tricked into wearing no clothes.

Slowly one by one the children seemed to relax into her stories. They accepted her as their narrator, and the distrust and hatred she had seen before were now fading away. Sigligon had been right, all she had to do was open up. Missandei grinned as she finished her tale of how a boy defeated a cyclops using only a pebble and a sling. Tyrion spoke up then "I believe my companion is tired shall we take a break for now? More stories to come I promise."  The children all protested but eventually, they agreed and wandered back to their original places. Missandei felt a pair of eyes watching her, she looked up and her eyes met Lady Sansa's. Sansa smiled pleasantly and walked over to them arms clasped in front of her.

"It was kind what you did." She said sitting down beside Tyrion. Sansa looked out at all the people huddled inside crevices and against the walls of the crypts. Missandei cleared her throat. "Would you like to tell one next?" Sansa smiled softly but shook her head "I never would listen to those type of stories, I only ever wanted to hear about brave Knights and Princesses in towers...I was naive and stupid back then" she muttered bitterly. "All of us here have been naive and stupid and one point in time, what matters is you learn from it and better yourself because of it, something that you have done an exemplary job at."

Missandai noticed Sansa's soft smile the woman then turned to Tyrion "Thank-you my Lord, I have forgotten how kind you are, seems almost a lifetime ago." Tyrion nodded and smiled fondly while staring up at the ceiling he announced "Perhaps we should have remained married" Missandei's air caught in her throat and she choked on it for a moment before regaining her composure. The way Tyrion had said that so casually. "It never would have worked out," Sansa said just as casually. Missandei flicked her eyes from Tyrion to Sansa a few times, confused at how cavalier they were about these things.

"Why not?" Tyrion asked her, turning his head to gaze up at her. Sansa's face darkened slightly "You are Hand to Daenerys Targaryen and you are a Lannister, the North will always remember." Tyrion sighed exasperatedly. Missandei narrowed her eyes. She could not for the life of her understand the people of this land, the cared more about their histories and ties they had to one another versus the lives of the people. Houses, bonds, and oaths were all that seemed to matter, where was the compassion? Where was the wanting to do something good just because and not expecting payment from it...as Daenerys had done to them.

GrayWorm and Daenerys both were out there now fighting for the North, and still, Sansa seemed disdainful of them all. Anger burned in her cheeks, she bit her lip so as not to speak ill. But she did comment loudly for anyone who cared "Why is the North remembers only selective things, hopefully when the dead are defeated the North will make sure to remember Daenerys Targaryen with her armies and dragons came to help when the North called." A silence descended upon the trio, if Sansa was squirming from Missandei's comment she did not let on, the woman was cold and still as ice.

"That is fair, Daenerys did come to the North to help...but it was not out of the goodness of her heart, we are an alliance, she will help us but only if we help her in return, once again a Targaryen uses the submission of the North to bring the rest of Westeros to heel." Then Sansa stood, her face calm but her eyes shone with a cold fire. "I must check on others, good evening Lord Tyrion...Missandei of Naarth." She bowed her head to each of them in turn then gracefully her chin raised high she left them. Tyrion turned to her "I don't think she will forget that." he said dryly, she did not know why but the comment brought a small smile to rise to her lips. 

 Missandei sighed and wanted to push the conversation from her mind. She reached into the satchel of books and awkwardly fished out a large book. It wasn't thick, but it was long and wide and Missandei could barely work it out of the bag. Once she had it propped on her legs she started at the cover. It was beautiful, a hard redwood made the cover, carved with precision detail was the title _'The paintings of the world'_ below this was a scene carved into the book of a maple tree set beside a small brook. She gasped, running her fingers of the lines that made up the image she traced the branch of the tree. 

Every leaf, each branch, the bark of the tree, its wrangled roots, all captured in lifelike detail, the swirls of the water, the ripples that cascaded out from shore. Blades of grass that looked as if they were ready to blow in the wind. It was exquisite, she couldn't believe anyone was capable of capturing the likeness of something to such an immaculate degree. Tyrion spoke up from beside her "The  _craftsmanship"_ he wheezed out, obviously in awe as much as she. Her and his eyes met, together they both glanced to the corner where the artist mark was in the corner. 

 _'Valeris Dilis'_ Realization hit Missandei, this was the ancestor Sigligon had mentioned in their earlier talks.  "This is the artist Sigligon had mentioned to me, one of her ancestors traveled all over and did works." Tyrion rested a hand on the cover, "I have seen fine work before, why was this woman not known?" Missandei raised a brow to Tryion "Because she was a woman." Tyrion frowned but nodded agreeing. Missandei opened the book, the first image that was revealed was the view of someone's bedroom window overlooking a busy street.

It was vibrant and full of life, the colors the people wore created a vast array of emotion. This woman Valeris remade everything she saw with exquisite detail. Perhaps not exactly as it was in the world, but she captured the essence and emotion behind each subject. The flipped to the next page, this one was a man brushing a horse, he stood in the middle of a stableyard, the horse was bay, light gleaming off its muscles, she paid great detail to where shadows fell upon the horse, as well as each of the hairs in its mane.

The man's face was happily content, an everlasting smile adorning his lips. Who knows who he was or his name, but here he was captured centuries later, immortalized on paper. Next, the paintings began to show a story, King's Landing from afar, just a dot on the horizon, after that countless painting's of the sea, sailors and sealife. This was her journey, and she captured it in chronological order. her waterscapes were immaculate, using not only blues but purples, yellows, and greens to capture the depths of the sea and sky.

Clouds were not just white, they were gray, gold, silver and all the other colors there could be. Sunsets were a myriad of colors blending and bleeding into one another. Each page made Missandei pause and reflect for minutes on end. At times it felt like she could close her eyes and be transported to where that artist was, experience the sights she was seeing. She could feel the breeze of the salty sea air, taste it on her lips, hear the call of the gulls and sea birds, feel the roll of the ship beneath her feet. Then she turned the page and nearly dropped the book.

There was Naarth, the white sandy beaches remade in yellows, golds, and browns. The vibrant trees along the shore, the calm waters lapping against the shore like a sea of sapphires. A memory sparked fresh in her mind, so sudden it took her by storm. She was swept away to a far off time when she was so young, so very young. She remembered being seated between the legs of a woman, was it her mother? Her grandmother? An auntie? She was watching the woman's hands sew something into a patch of fabric, she was mesmerized by the motion, deft fingers calloused and weathered. 

The hand's turned the fabric over, it was the beginnings of a butterfly, bright yellow and purple. To her left, a woman sat down, old and wrinkled her same eyes. Toothless she smiled at her, her gums smacking. Her hair was long white with age and curled short against her scalp. Large knobby fingers worked apart the shells of nuts. There Missandei sat in her memories, watching as two women worked around her. The old woman began to hum a melody. The sound made Missandei cry, something inside her spoke to the melody, it awakened emotions that she didn't understand but knew were important.

A well of nostalgia and bitter sadness rose up within her, as well as happiness. The melody filled her head breaking free from the long-forgotten memory and restoring itself firm in her mind. The pinched her eyes shut and nodded her head to it, letting the music wash over her. She opened her eyes and realized she was crying, she sniffed and wiped them aside. Her heart ached, for the first time in her life, she had something of her's returned to her. Although it was only a tiny piece of her culture and heritage she had reclaimed it, something she did not think could be done. 

She had always thought that her heritage and culture had been stripped away from her when she was trained, but with the melody singing strongly in her head she felt pride swell within her. "Are you okay?" Tyrion asked his voice filled with worry. Missandei smiled still wiping away tears. "I...I am, I just...I remembered something about my home thanks to this image." Tyrion remained silent, but his eyes shone with happiness, he glanced away and let her have a moment to herself. Missandei hummed the tune softly, it was slow but a happy tune.

Within a few moments, a small Northern girl walked towards her ignoring the calls from her mother. Missandei hummed it a little louder, the girls face lit up with joy. She was young, no more than five or so. Bright blonde hair and hazel eyes, dressed head to toe in furs. She walked closer to Missandei and grinned closing her eyes and listening to Missandei's melody. Missandei grinned and continued, more children began to walk over the melody was beginning to resonate in the air of the crypts. In little time a large gather of young children sat and stood in front of Missandei, the music she hummed was different from their Northern melodies and lullabies. 

Her tune was happy and lilting, it was something they had never witnessed before. Missandei began to tire and she slowly let the melody taper off. "Did you all like it?" she asked them. All the children nodded vigorously. "That is a song from my home, I was born on a small island out in the sea called Naarth...who here has heard of it?" Many shook their heads, one or two shrugged. Missandei cleared her throat and turned the book, holding it so all could see. Many of them gasped and awed exclaiming at how pretty it was. 

Missandei told them of Naarth, the sandy white beaches, the tall trees with fruit as hard as rocks but filled with water. She told them of the bright birds, that thankfully the artist Valeris had painted. She told them about the sea, and the animals in it, the massive turtles one could sit and ride if one wanted too. She told them of monkeys and spiders as large as their heads, and most importantly she told them of the butterflies, ones as large as cats, the flocks of them that littered all over the island. Leaving out of course the sickness but she felt that detail was a bit too gruesome for one's so young. 

 She continued this for an hour or so only stopping when the chilly sounds of the fighting became too loud to ignore. The thundering voices of men crying out orders, their screams to hold fast and steady. It sent Missandei on edge as well as the children, she coddled them closer to her and told them happier stories, the best ones she could think of. The fear and unease rose in her the longer the fighting went on. Another sound was beginning to fill the air, the sounds of hissing and inhuman screams. Missandei stopped in her storytelling, all the adults in the crypt were quiet shushing children and babes.

Tyrion looked up at her, she met his eyes, they were buried beneath his brows a grim frown on his face. A few of the children clutched to her legs and skirt. She assured them the best she could and in an unspoken agreement all the children and mothers began to file into the side rooms, where the children and babes of winter rested. These rooms muffled the noise a little more, being nestled amongst one another calmed the children the warmth of the bodies pressed against one another. The older children, the ones that were still too young and too small to hold a bow but old enough to understand the circumstances of what was happening, stood outside the rooms.

Faces drawn blank, fear filling their eyes they planted themselves like young oak trees. They had seen their fathers and uncles die in the wars of Robb Stark, they had seen their older brothers die in the war against the Bolton's, they knew it was now their turn. To Missandei there was nothing more unnerving then see a child prepare for death. Missandei stood outside the room entrance, her eyes drawn to the steps that ascended into the outside world,  _'Will those doors hold?'_ She thought to herself. But shook her head,  _'No, no door or lock will keep death out for long.'_

She frowned, she should not be thinking these things, they will win, she believed in her Queen, she believed in Grayworm, they would survive she knew it. Faith filling her heart she walked over and sat down next to the book she had been holding. She thumbed through the pages and turned it back to the image of Naarth from afar, running her hand over it she relished in the moment of seeing her homeland once again. That was when a coldness swept through the crypt nearly sputtering out all the lights. She gasped and closed the book setting it back down on the bench she stood and took a few steps forward.

Tyrion and Sansa came out from a small cubby like area, she noticed the knife in Tyrion's hand. They nodded to one another as they peered out into the depths of the crypt. Children began to cry and mothers shakily hushed them and tried to soothe them. As sudden as the coldness and been it disappeared, the air returning to normal and lights burned brightly. Missandei sighed and turned back to Tyrion and Sansa the look of relief on both of their faces was apparent, as well as the motion of Sansa's hand to her stomach, Missandei opened her mouth to ask Sansa a question when instantaneously the drumming echos of stone being struck echoed from every direction of the crypts.

Missandei turned and backed away as she watched bony hands and arms break their way through the stone vaults, they crumbled apart easily, the ages of moisture deteriorating away the stone. She could hear the inhuman screeches from the darkness of the far off tunnels. The scent of rotted meat filling the crypt. Her heart pounding she watched as a creature pulled itself out of a vault, scrabbling across the ground flesh eaten away only the dark sinew of tendon clung to its skeleton. A dress tattered and ruined from decaying bodily fluids, a few small strands of dark hair remained attached to the skull, the creature turned its head creaking towards her, black holes for eyes with bits of dried flesh stared into her soul and Missandei screamed. 


	38. Chapter 38 - The Stupidest Lannister -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry for the long wait! Have been so busy with playing Ark and Greedfall (Good game, by the way, will be writing some fics for that as well.)
> 
> Please forgive me and enjoy.

_Korb Hills_

Korb was suspended in time for a moment, the shock from the blow slowly rippling up through his wrists and forearms till the impact struck his shoulders with full force. Pain registered faintly through the crashing tide of adrenaline. He fell to the ground, instinct guiding him to roll as he did. The ground was freezing to him, slushy snow and mud mixed with blood and ashes from the dead.

He rolled over and up to his feet both swords in front of him as he squared off against the generals. They moved deliberately, no motion was taken without direct thought.  _'Do these things even think?'_ He thought to himself as they stood there guarded for a second or two before two strode towards him their icy longswords drawn.

They stood taller than him and had the longer reach with their longswords, but their armor was a basic cloth and hide whereas he was plated leather. They also seemed to move slower, did they do so on purpose or was it because of what they were? Korb did not have the time to speculate the first blade came rushing towards his head, he lifted  _Dragonsfang_ to deflect it.

The icy dark sword slid off his blade easily, there was a small window of opportunity while the general was unguarded, thanks to the weight of his longsword dragging him forward slightly. Korb shot the Tarly blade forward stabbing the general in the side under his arm. For a moment the creature was frozen, a widening in his eyes from the surprise, to it, it had never conceived the notion that it could die.

Then it shattered in front of his eyes, an act that made him stagger backward in surprise. It was so forceful and sudden Korb was shocked how fast it happened, one moment it had been there and the next it was gone. Korb would have remained standing there mouth agape if it wasn't for a longsword coming for his head.

He ducked to the left, then turned on his heel holding one blade down at his waist in front of him and the other he held pointed straight towards his enemies his arm bent back as if drawing a bow. Korb felt his lip tug up into a sneer as he glared down the four remaining generals. Above him, Kastamere flew raining down fire in a protective circle keeping the dead from reaching their generals and keeping Korb from escaping.

The Walker screeched loudly it's voice reminding Korb of a cat he had once witnessed being run over by a cart in King's Landing, only this was more harrowing. His hair now standing on end he clenched his teeth for a second before relaxing. The voice of Jovern in the back of his mind reminding him to not stiffen up in a fight, but to stay fluid and nimble.

Another lesson Jovern had taught him accompanied the thought. _"When against odds don't let them back you into a corner, take them by surprise and rush them head-on, their guard will be down and they will have spaced themselves out without even realizing it."_ Korb lunged forward, targeting the Walker with the longsword that had just attacked him.

The Walker brought it's Longsword up to block his first blade, a high singing sound erupted from the clashing of the two metals. Korb pushed all his weight down onto the sword and leaped over and towards the general his second sword burying itself through the generals head. Korb grinned this time as he fell forward the icy longsword clattering ownerless to the ground.

He landed and turned to see a Javelin being thrust at him. Hurridly he moved to leap out of its way but was unsuccessful, mud trapped his foot rooting him in place. A sudden sharp pain registered on his left thigh. He felt the heat of his blood wet against his skin, could feel the icy wind bite at his exposed flesh. He staggered away ducking from a flurried attack by a Walker with a shortsword.

The three generals were now upon him. He could feel his heartbeat wildly the sweat from his brow trickling down into his eyes. He grimaced and held his ground. The javelin Walker thrusted his weapon towards him once more. Korb contorted his body bending away from the tip. He secured his arm around the javelin's wooden shaft then he rolled forward towards the Walker his blade ready.

The Walker let go of his javelin choosing instead to shy away from Korb's attempt. Dropping the javelin and kicking it away he turned to meet another series of erratic attacks from the short sword general. The creature moved with a ferocity that it took all of Korb's might and skill to keep the blade from striking him.

Even with two swords, he found this a challenge, so much so it took all his concentration and he was unable to keep an eye on the other two generals. A whirlwind of force took him from the side. He was now on the ground wrangling with this undead creature. One sword had been knocked away from him, the other was trapped beneath his body.

The creature was pounding and hitting his chest and shoulders, the blows falling like a series of hammers. Long bony claws scratching at him. The stench of death invaded his nostrils so strong and pungent it made bile rise to his throat.  It's mouth opened in a horrible scream, ivory teeth buried in blacked gums gnashing like a feral dog in his face.

In that moment of pure desperation, where the only thought rushing through his mind was to fight and to survive he did the only thing he could do. He fisted his hand and struck out. He punched the Walker in the cheek with all the force he could muster. The Walker was knocked off to the side by the force of the blow, just enough for Korb to unbury his sword from beneath him and lash out frantically towards the creature that was once again leaping towards him.

His sword swung and hit it in mid-air. The explosion of ice and dust washing over him. He panted swallowing back bile and saliva, his limbs shaking from fear and adrenaline. His hand was throbbing painfully, radiating waves of heat as pins and needles washed up his arm. He groaned _'Note, Never punch a Walker'_ he thought to himself as he lay there in tormented pain.

His eyes shot open, he didn't have time to lay here he had two more generals to deal with. With great effort, he rolled over and staggered up feeling weak a throbbing in his ears. He glanced down to his thigh wound, the blood had now reached down to his ankle he cursed out loud. He looked back to the two generals, they had waited patiently by, assessing him. What were the waiting for? He wondered to himself. 

Korb panted and searched for his other sword on the ground before him. He spotted it after a few seconds, the glint of the blade shining in the firelight. He jostled forward quickly. His hand no longer feeling as if someone was stabbing him with sewing needles he lunged for  _Dragonsfang_. The Walker with the shortsword surged towards him.

Korb's fingers had just grazed the grip of  _Dragonsfang_ he turned his head to see the Walker just a foot away bringing its arm back to plunge a sword forward into his head. For a second time that night, time moved slowly. Korb could hear his heart beating in his chest, the sound reverberating throughout his being. He could see his pained and fearful reflection in the sword that propelled itself towards him. He watched as the wind pulled at the white strands of the general's hair, the dead-pan blue eyes staring down at him, he couldn't dodge, he couldn't bring his sword up in time, there was nothing he could do, but wait for death. 

An arrow shot down from the sky appearing out from the corner of his vision. It buried itself deep into the Walkers chest. The Walker ceased its movement then crumbled into a shimmery fine powder disappearing before Korb's eyes. Korb glanced up to see a red dragon land protectively on top of him. He cried out and threw himself flat against the ground, for a brief second Korb's world was only the fiery red of Meledary's scales. 

The dragon roared above him, he peeked out from beneath Mele's stomach, the dragon's legs straddling on either side of him. He saw the remaining Walker get engulfed in a torrent of red and gold. Wincing Korb dragged himself out from under the dragon's mass. He looked up to see Sigligon perched on Mele's back, standing tall and straight an arrow knocked. 

Korb was flooded with relief seeing Sigligon there, but that relief grew into a concern for her safety, she should not be here on the ground! He stepped forward limping. He turned his head up to the sky to look for Kastamere. He had lost track of the blue dragon, and he could no longer see the wall of flames that protected them from the dead.

Korb scanned the area around him, realization hitting him that the swarm that had been overtaking the castle walls was gone, only a quarter of them remained and they were being pushed back. He stood slack-jawed, had his idea worked? He turned back to Sigligon who let loose her arrow into the last remaining Walker general.

It died with quick ease, the Dragonglass arrow burrowing itself in its right eye. As it fell so to did the remaining undead. They just clattered to the ground harmlessly the evil magic that had animated them vanishing in an instant. For a moment all was calm in this area of the battlefield. The echo of fighting could still be heard in other area's but for now, there was no threat of death breathing down his neck.

Korb leaned over gasping, he was a wreak his nerves frazzled and his heart beating erratically. Korb heard a shuffling sound and saw Siglgion running towards him. She was covered in in ash and her hair was just barely staying in its bun. Her face was pale from the cold except for her cheeks that burned red in fury.

She ran up to him and cuffed him over the ear. Her voice loud and punctuating she screamed out at him.

"How dare you, Korb! You Arse!  _doru-borto_ " Her anger making her break into Valyrian "Dōrī gaomagon bona arlī!!!" She snarled at him demanding that he never do what he just did again. Her eyes glistened in rage, she slapped him on the chest several times, he grimaced and stood there complacent. He could see the fear and worry buried behind that fury.

Just as fast and fiery her anger had come it softened, she clasped his face and held it dearly. "I could have lost you..." she stated wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him. He sighed and patted her back gently. "Sorry" he expressed sincerely. She stepped away wiping away a tear or two. His heart sank, he had never thought of Sigligon when he made his choice, he only thought of how to win this battle.

But he now was becoming aware to just how much his choice affected her. Had he fallen she would have been alone, not only that but he would have failed his duty to her and the promise he made to Jovern. Shame and guilt began to eat away at him. He winced and hissed as the pain was beginning to register through the adrenaline.

Sigligon worriedly glanced down to his thigh, in the span of a few seconds she had assessed it and was already beginning to grab wound care supplies from the small side pouch she always had attached at her hip. She had pressed some gauze and began to pack it into the wound, an act that nearly made him collapse to the ground in agony.

Instead, he put a hand on her shoulder for support, his breathing hitching with each of her movements. Bolts of pain shooting through his leg. A rumbling sound made both stop and turn to look onwards into the darkness. From its depths, another wave of the dead charged them at a full sprint. Korb swore and pulled Sigligon up and pushed her towards Mele.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him with her, they staggered their way to Mele's shoulders so that they could mount and flee in time. But their plans were changed when Mele lurched forward blasting a wave of fire of such intensity that both of them had to duck away from the heat. Suddenly the dragon's wings extended out and it roared out in pain.

Korb glanced over to see the dead scurrying over Mele's body like a bunch of fleas on a corpse. A cold shiver of fear raked down his spine, _not Mele!_ Korb roared out something incomprehensible, his voice lost in the din. Dead were beginning to surround them. Korb lashed out strong and fluidly, he had to protect Sigligon at all costs!

Sigligon was behind him, he could feel her back pressed up against his own. She cried out at Mele, who with a sudden burst of strength launched himself into the air, he screamed out in agony as the dead stabbed, bit and raked their claws into his hide. The dead rained down from the sky as Mele rid himself of the parasites.

Korb panted in exhaustion, all around him the enemies were beginning to surround him. He dared a chance to look behind him at Sigligon. Her face was solemn and pale with fear. Was this the end? He wondered to himself, all that work all that time they had spent, all of it now thrown away because of his mistake.

The creatures began to swarm them. At first, they were able to hold their own, Korb using both blades in large spinning motions was very affective against creatures who could be killed with a single scratch of his blade. Sigligon used her glaive to knock the creatures away, she was unable to truly kill them for her weapon was regular steel and neither Dragonglass or Valyrian steel. 

But she made due, at times she would use her arrows like daggers when she could. They fought for about thirty seconds like this, but that thirty seconds felt like an eternity. A roar of a dragon overhead signaled that help perhaps was on the way. Blue flames began to jet down from the sky surrounding the both of them with a small wall of fire and a small respite from the dead. 

Korb turned to Sigligon "Get on Kastamere! I will hold them off!" He roared at her grabbing her elbow and making sure she understood that he was serious. "What about you!" she yelled back gripping his forearm firmly not daring to let him go. "There's no time for me! You just go!" He yelled back pleadingly. She shook her head tears in her eyes, she looked so fragile at this moment, all around her the fire framed her and yet her eyes shone brightly with such a dark sadness, not even the flames could brighten them.

"NO!" I will not lose you! Either we both live or we both die!" She screamed back, the flames were beginning to die down now. He could see out of the corner Kastamere was blowing another jet of fire to clear a landing space for himself. "It's my duty to see you live! Don't die for the sake of me!" He beseeched her trying to break her grip from his arm.

"I forbid you to let yourself die for the sake of me! YOU are my  _BROTHER_ and I will not lose you too!" Korb was silent for a moment, tears dotting the edges of his vision. He knew what she meant at that moment it felt all too real. All those years, all the memories, the conversations and arguments, all of it sinking in that it was real...and that he was about to lose it all.

At least he had gotten to experience it. He had the satisfaction of being able to look back at his life and all the good times they shared before he lost it all to the dark silence of death. He gulped and brought her in close "You are too important to let die Sigi..." he said hurridly leaning his forehead against hers. "I made a promise to Jovern, call me selfish I don't care, but are living through this weather you like it or not!"

He dragged her towards the descending form of Kastamere, he had cleared a path for them, the fire was licking at their feet. The heat was nearly unbearable but Korb pushed his way through. Kastamere had landed, the blue dragon swiped his massive tail knocking back the dead, from his mouth spewed forth waves of blue flames that lapped over their enemies and exterminated them.

Korb twisted Sigligon to face him at that moment he wished he could tell her how much he loved her, how happy he was to be her brother and to thank her for taking him in and for the amazing life they had lived. He wished he could take away her pain and suffering and longed for the ability to ease the grief that she would bear in the coming days.

But he couldn't, instead, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, handing her  _Dragonsfang_  as he did so. Her skin was warm beneath his lips. He closed his eyes and breathed in the air, the scent of smoke and death filled it but just faintly he could smell her familiar scent. It calmed him and he lifted his head "It's not good-bye" he whispered his voice catching in his throat, he muffled the sob with effort.

Siglgion nodded her chin quivering as she remained latched onto him refusing to let go. He began to push her away towards Kastamere. Siglgion took one step back her hand still in a vice grip around his forearm. "Go," he said softly. She nodded her eyes drowning in tears as she unlocked her fingers from around his arm.

Suddenly she pulled him to the side as she screamed: " _LOOK OUT_!!!" Korb turned and jumped back just in time to miss the swing of a heavy hammer. His eyes wandered up as he stared at the hulking form of what appeared to have been a man at some point in history. But Korb had never seen a man so tall who was not a giant.

The undead creature stood seven feet tall perhaps more, it's flesh was mummified to its bones and the armor it wore was ancient but of high quality, even after all the ages it still actually gleamed. The deadman's helm was an imposing one, two large stag horns arched up into the night Korb's heart skipped a beat who and what in the hell was this thing?!!! It creature raised his hammer high above his head and brought it crashing down aiming for Sigligon. Korb roared angrily, pushing Sigligon down to the ground and out of the way.

The hammer impacted into the ground causing a cloud of snow powder to rise where Sigligon had been standing. Korb launched himself forward both swords drawn straight ahead. The creature swept his hammer to the left knocking into Korbs side. The impact was enough to knock Korb to the side and take his breath away but it felt as though no other injuries were present. Korb lay half on his side dazed and looked up into the horned helm and to the black emptiness of the skull that rested within it. The hammer was brought up and over the creatures head and once again Korb found himself staring at deaths hand.

He groaned and attempted to drag himself away his strength sapped. He had nowhere to go, in front of him the creature to his left a wall of fire to his right Sigligon and Kastamere. His eyes met Sigligon's, he mouthed 'go' to her, she nodded her lips drawn in a tight line. Then the hammer fell.

_Jaime Lannister_

Jaime, Bronn, Brienne, and even Podrick had made it this far. A fact that surprised him, who knew a 40-year-old Knight with one hand could fight on for this long. Their backs were against the wall, behind them a string of his men as well as all the other infantry forces were cascading into the small side door that led into Winterfell. The dead were truly countless, he had probably killed more of these creatures in one night than all the men he had defeated throughout his entire life. He stood there defiant making sure to protect the retreat of his men.

Beside him Brienne fought valiantly, her raucous cries rose up into the night and fueled him to keep fighting on. As long as he could witness her prevail he would stand with her. She had spoken up for him, trusted him, cared about him even, after all the stuff he had done past and present, by rights she should detest him, but she didn't it gave him hope. Hope that he could be the better man, an honorable one, the one that she claimed he was but he could not see himself. Their line held up briefly before being overwhelmed.

He could see the creatures on the walls, he could hear the men yelling and screaming, all of them fighting with desperation to live. Jaime had been knocked down to the ground and swarmed so many times, and each time Brienne had fought them off and picked him up literally. Bronn repeatedly cursed as he fought on beside Podrick, both of them standing back to back facing against the enemy, this tactic seemed to work well and Jaime and Brienne soon found themselves doing the same. If one was overcome the other would cover them until they regained their composure. 

Luckily for them most of the creatures seemed to be focused on scaling the walls, intent on breaking through to get something inside.  _'Bran Stark'_   he thought to himself. The poor boy was reduced to a strange cripple all because of his doing, a sinful mistake and a constant reminder of who exactly he was. Hateable and dishonorable. Perhaps by dying for Winterfell, he would redeem his name, but knowing the Starks they would be happy he was gone, he couldn't blame them, at times he wished the same thing.

The area before him was set alight in a bright blue glow. It was one of the  _SIX_ of Daenerys dragons if he remembered correctly the young man Korb had said that was his mount. The dragon swooped down over the dead, carving a path through them and giving Jaime and the rest of them a small respite even if for a few seconds. The dragon flew low, then circled an area 100 or so yards away. It lit up a small circle of blue and green flames, giving Jaime the ability to see the mass of creatures around them. As fast as the creatures had fallen more had come and filled in their places.

He squinted and saw a figure fall from the dragon, into the circle of flames. He couldn't see too much within the circle, but what he did know was all of a sudden the creatures in front of them were falling over dead...deader not sure how to explain it but the important thing was they were no longer attacking him. The relief was beginning to flood his exhausted muscles, he sucked in air and wiped sweat from his brow with his forearm, his golden hand just partially touching his skin, it was frozen cold and it felt good on his heated flesh.

Little by little the creatures were falling, stiff and unmoving just as corpses should be. Jaime turned and glanced to Brienne, she was doubled over panting, her face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. A few new scratches on her face yet her eyes still shone with her defiant willfulness.  

 

He then turned to see Bronn and Podrick, Podrick was nursing a wound on his arm, Bronn was swaying where he stood from exhaustion. "Quickly while you can get inside!" he ordered out to the remaining men outside the walls. The small lull made it easy to get people through the gates. Jaime and Brienne stood overlooking everyone.

 

Out of curiosity, Jaime stepped up on a  nearby pile of rubble, making sure to cautiously kick aside one of the corpses that lie there. With some vantage he was able to study the scene inside the circle of blue flames, the fire was dying down and the blue dragon was nowhere to be seen.

Jaime could tell by the figure it was Korb. He was scrambling with three of the deadmen, but these were different, white hair and blue skin he remembered King Jon saying something about those ones being the 'generals.' 

 

He was dueling with two swords, something Jaime had not seen since the time of 'The Sword of the Morning' Ser Arthur Dayne. The man was fighting well enough, he moved quick and clean and reserved his strength for when necessary. But Jaime watched as he struggled, the sudden injury to his thigh slowed him down, at one point in the fight he had gone down but miraculously Korb fought off the creature, one by one they fell till the last remained.

Seeing the young man on the ground like that after fighting so hard, sacrificing everything he had so that the rest of them could survive had moved Jaime, he wanted desperately to go out and fight beside him, but his common sense held him back. Yet he could feel the battle between what was smart and what was right waning within him. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as a red dragon approached, the general fell suddenly and a wall of gold and red flames erupted.

His heart sank when he watched another tide of dead come towards them, but it was expected the dead just came back no matter what. The blue dragon returned, Jaime watched as it cut through the sky and once again began carving out a path protecting its master. There was a struggle, a few of the dead had managed to get into their circle of fire, the red dragon suddenly bolted off into the night leaving them stranded with fire. But Jaime knew that fire would last only so long. 

His heart beat wildly, there weren't many dead, if he ran fast enough he could reach in time to them. What was he thinking!? Why risk your life for two strangers who serve your enemy? But those strangers rode dragons, and those dragons greatly helped against the enemy tide, even if they lost one, that is one less person to ride and control the very crucial dragons.

He groaned inwardly, his mind made up. He turned to Bronn and Podrick. "Go inside! Bronn take charge of the men if I don't return." He then snapped his eyes to Brienne, she gazed at him her large doe eyes wide in confusion her face beginning to contort in an objection. "Thank you for believing in me, you are an honorable woman, and you deserve to be a Knight." This stunned her, she stared at him her mouth parted slightly. He then turned and ran towards Korb, cursing himself for being the stupidest Lannister.

He only ran into a few of the dead as he rushed his way forward. The wind was cold against his face and he slid around from the mud and slush on the field. As he approached closer he noticed a massive hulk of an undead creature. It was making its way towards Korb and the other person, Jaime ground his teeth hard. He had to make it, he just had to.

He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, his back straight and one arm pumping the air as the other clasped the hilt of his sword still in its sheath.  _Horns_ he choked nearly stopping in place, the massive dead thing had horns on the side of its head, and by the gods, it was so  _huge._ A hulking mass even larger than  _The Mountain_ stood wielding a war hammer at Korb. 

The flames surrounding them were only two feet or so high taking all of his might Jaime picked up speed than in a large sweeping bound bringing both legs up towards his chest he leapt over the flames entirely. He felt the heat lick at his back and feet but he paid no mind. He watched as the horned figure lifted it's hammer high above its head. 

With honed speed from hours of practice, he drew _Widow's Wail._ He pointed the Valyrian steel blade towards the gaps between the darkened armor the massive hulk wore. As the thing began to bring its hammer down Jaime launched forward putting all force behind his blade. He bit his lip to keep himself silent, internally roaring in his mind like the lion he was.

The blade slid through, clean and easy like a child would sketch a line in the sand. He heard the satisfying high pitched screech as the creature died, it's body disintegrating while the armor it wore crumpled to the ground in disarray. Its hammer landed a few inches away from the prone figure of Korb who met Jaime's eye in disbelief.

Jaime stepped forward helping the man up. With a grunt and a wince, Korb accepted his hand Jaime turned and saw the red-haired woman, her face covered in ash and dust, her hair messy and threatening to break free from its hold. She regarded him with a strange mixture of emotion before all three of them were forced to react to a sudden surge of the dead.

Jaime stood to Korbs left, guarding the men injured side. He glanced over across the field towards the wall, there were no creatures there they could make it if they run now. He was about to relay this information when he felt his feet get knocked out from under him. He cried in surprise and instantly reacted rolling kicking and swiping at whatever held him.

His vision was blocked by faces of the dead men, haunting blue eyes emotionlessly towering over him. Faces frozen and bleached bone-white edging closer ready to devour him. A pack of hyena's swarming the injured lion greedily happy to invoke their revenge. Jaime saw a different pair of blue eyes, these were bright and vibrant, full of life and the face they were set in was a face of milky white shining so brightly in the moon and flames.

He was hauled up by the neck of his armor, somehow he managed to stand. His instinct guiding him as he realized Brienne was there with him. She roared out like she did when she fought against the bear. IN the back of his mind he registered red and gold flames being added to the fray. He turned to see two dragons landed, the red and the blue, they guarded them against the bulk of the enemy force but they also cut them off from escape.

The pain was beginning to register through the fog of confusion. Red blood trickled down his hand, the origin of it somewhere beneath his armor on his arm. The four of them stood back to back, Korb just barely managing to stand. "We need to get out of here!" Jaime roared as he sliced his sword in front of him cutting through two of the dead. 

Korb and the red-haired woman glanced at each other, then to the dragons then back to him and Brienne. Wordlessly they communicated. Suddenly Korb grabbed onto Jaime's elbow and he found himself being led towards the blue dragon. Jaime had never seen a dragon this close before, sure he had tried to joust one once but that was a failed attempt and even then he barely got within ten feet.

Limping Korb pushed him against the side of the dragon, Jaime felt a tremor of fear take hold in him as his stomach began to do summersaults. "Wha-" "Just get on!" Korb snapped interrupting his question. Incoherently he stared at Korb. The man scoffed and even in his injured state scrabbled up the side of the dragon climbing it like a squirrel would an oak tree.

Jaime was left staring up at the man still confused until he heard a scream of a creature behind him. He jumped into action, unsure of what he was doing, every fiber in his being saying this was a terrible idea and that this was insane. But then again he was fighting an army of dead men so perhaps he should question what was insanity.

The dragon wore a saddle-like contraption that had several buckles and straps that allowed him to climb up somewhat effectively but it was hard for one to climb in a suit of plated armor with one hand, and despite his best efforts he found himself half dangling off the side of the dragon. An arm reached down and once again Jaime found himself being hoisted up unceremoniously by the neck of his armor.

He bellowed out when his stomach hit the spined back of the dragon. He was laying behind Korb, strung across the dragons back like he were a trophy from a hunt. Jaime's world started to spin and his vision became narrowed to two dots when the dragon launched itself into the air with such speed Jaime didn't know it was possible to experience.

The wind howled in his ears as the frigidness of it slapped him across his face. He gripped onto whatever he could as a constant horse scream filled the air around him. It took him a few moments to realize it was his own. Jaime clenched his jaw then glanced down, BY. THE. GODS. why did he DO THAT? Everything in the world was so tiny and far away, people looked like ants, defending against a larger darker horde of...ants.

He felt a whimper deep in his throat but dare not let it out. Instead, he set his eyes to the section of scales in front of him. The way they gleamed in the moonlight reminding him of sapphires.  _SAPPHIRES!_ he realized suddenly and glanced around in the sky about them, an act that left him disoriented and feeling weak.

He shakily forced himself to scan for the red dragon. Sure enough, just below and to the left, the creature flew easily and carefree, on its back two figures. He felt a small bit of relief as he spotted Brienne's familiar form. Brienne sat behind the red-haired woman, clutching to the saddle just as he was. On the wind, he could hear the distant bellowing curses being strewn from her lips.

Jaime would have laughed if he were not desperately clinging to the back of a dragon and reminding himself to breathe. A scream was pulled from him when the dragon suddenly dove down, Jaime could feel his body lift off the dragon. An act that sent him panicking and scrabbled with all he had to keep himself firmly attached to the dragon.

There was nothing more terrifying in the world than being in the sky so far up and not having anything to secure you in place. He had ridden out a bucking fit of many a horse in his day, which then could be a hairy situation but that did not come even close to this feeling. Suddenly he was slammed against the dragon his breath suddenly torn from him in a wheezing groan.

The dragon was floating now, the wind died down greatly as the dragon glided on the breeze it's wing's fully set. It was gentle enough to where Jaime allowed himself to risk turning his head to shout at Korb "DON'T DO THAT AGAIN!!!" Which came out in a more higher pitch then he would have liked. Korb easily swung himself around and gave him a weak grin "Then sit up and stop screaming like a Lady Ser Jaime." 

Jaime should have never saved this smugly grinning dragon rider. He could have been safe behind the wall without a care, but no charge forward and save this brave fool. He hated how much that thought mirrored what Brienne would say to him. Jaime found the strength to sit up when he did Korb strapped thick bands of leather across his legs and over his thighs to keep him seated in place.

Jaime was stunned how at ease Korb was moving and fiddling with items unstrapped and completely fearless as he didn't even pay attention to what the dragon was doing. The trust and steely nerve of this man astounded Jaime. Jaime glanced over to see Brienne also in the same position, strapped and staring wide-eyed at him.

Jaime wished he knew what to say, he wished he could apologize for dragging her into this mess but he couldn't. Korb turned around and seated himself in front of Jaime before he turned and grinned "Hold on!" In a cheerful tone. The string of curses that ripped out of Jaime's lips could have made a sailor blush as the dragon dove downwards, wings furled tight against its side, and in the breeze of the wind, he could hear Brienne cursing all the same.

They dove fast, Jaime pinching his eyes tight not daring to look. He only opened his eyes as he watched the world before him went up in a swirl of red and blue flames. 

 


	39. Chapter 39 - At What Cost -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To people wondering how long these 'Long Night' night chapters are gonna take, I can't say for sure but I'll be damed if the Night King and his army will be defeated in a single freaking night after 8 seasons of buildup.

_Jon Snow_

Jon stood there stunned as the wight's on the walls fell over limp and unmoving. Section by section it seemed, it was a well-needed respite from the constant rush of them. Quickly Jon took advantage of the situation. He ordered injured and the dead off the wall and for fresh supplies to be brought up to replenish the tools they had used. More pitch and Dragonglass arrows made there way up the steps. Gate doors were refortified and an attempt at order was made. Jon watched as the body of Edd was carried off, his black cape draped over his chest and his sword placed in his arms.

He had died shielding Jon from a wight. Jon closed his eyes and held back his emotion. Edd was one of the last members of his old group of friends at the wall. He was loyal and smart and it pained Jon to see him gone.  He said a small and brief prayer for him before turning back to face his enemy. For now, grief would have to wait. He watched as the two dragons took to the sky from the ground. Sigligon on the red one while Korb flew on his blue. It had all been thanks to Korb, the crazy bastard had somehow faced against five generals and survived. Jon was thankful that the man was on their side. 

He glanced over and saw Daenerys sweeping over the barrier edge where the enemy's line stood. Every so often Drogon would duck and dodge from arrows and spears being tossed up to him. Jon felt a small sliver of worry creep into his mind. He wished she would come closer and not be so close to the enemy, but he knew his worries would fall on deaf ears, she would do what she thought was right, just as he would for his people. A small contingent of dead broke through and tried to attack the walls, the archers made quick work of them.

The dragons swooped in the air above the battlefield diving down and spraying fire where they could. He watched as both Sigligon and Korb flew their dragons together, a wall of red and blue incinerating swaths of the army. The dead stopped coming, Jon frowned, this was the same thing that happened the night before. The dead would rush them and try to overtake them, then as time wore on they would stop, the Night King was smart, he could send his entire army all at once and overtake them, but it came at a high cost especially with the dragons on their side.

But he didn't instead he kept gauging their defenses figuring out ways to get through with minimal cost. But why? If they were all dead he could easily raise them all again as part of his army. Jon pushed the matter from his mind, for now, he would have to speak to Bran about it later. Jon glanced over to Ser Davos, the man was sweaty and covered in black blood and debris. "Ser Davos?" Jon asked. Ser Davos looked over at him. "Yes your Grace?" he answered back as faithful as ever. "What time would you say it is?" Ser Davos turned to glance up at the sky then back to him.

"Bout' a...hour or so before dawn." Jon frowned thinking harder. "Wouldn't you say that was about the same time yesterday the army stopped?" Davos frowned "No, it was a bit later, the sun was just beginning to rise when the army fled back into the woods." Jon sighed but nodded "Good, then we just need to hold out till morning." Jon stepped forward and peered out at the field. It was a mess, the broken debris of what had been their trenches lay scattered everywhere as well as the hundreds of bodies from both sides of the war.

Jon frowned, they would need to go and start burning those men as soon as they could. Suddenly Jon saw movement from the enemy line, they parted and the Night King led his white horse through. He solely walked towards Winterfell, emotionless and unmoving he sat statuesque on his horse. Jon squinted to perceive the Night King better a dull rage growing in his chest.

The three dragon riders and their dragons circled about one another off to the side of the Night King. Then, one broke away from the trio, it was Daenerys riding Drogon and headed straight for the Night King. Jon felt fear spike in his heart. A hoarse cry ripped from his lips before the sudden pain in his side made him stagger and stop.

Ser Davos caught him and asked if he was okay. Jon ignored him and shot his eyes to Daenerys. He watched as Drogon hovered above the Night King and roared out. The Night King paused and looked upwards at the beast. Jon held his breath like everyone else was most likely doing, a small sliver of hope began to blossom.  _'Maybe, just maybe it might work'_   he thought to himself.

 

_Daenerys Targaryen_

Daenerys glared down at the Night King, she watched his blank expression look up at her. He was motionless, it unnerved her but she was not gonna let it show. She smiled to herself, he was defenseless and she was on Drogon. She gripped his spines firmly then under her breath she let out a stern "Dracarys" knowing full well what was about to happen.

Her child would unleash a torrent of black flames. Flames that will engulf her enemies and melt them into ash, just like he had been doing since he was a hatchling. She watched giddily as the flames swept over the Night King. Pride swelled within her, she had done it, she had defeated him. There was no way anything could survive a direct blast from one of her children.

The world held it's breath as Drogon rained down black fire upon their mortal enemy. The terrifying and mysterious Night King, the creature that was supposedly the harbinger of all their deaths, perhaps Daenerys Targaryen on back of her mighty dragon could defeat him.

But something wasn't right if the Night King were to die his army should fall, why was it still standing? She thought to herself. The flames were beginning to die down as Drogon stopped in his ministrations. Slowly her heart sank, the Night King stood unfazed by the fire, she could just see his face and torso. Then she saw a movement on his face.

A smirk, only the smallest of ones but she could see it plain as day on his features. Her heart skipped a beat, how was this possible!? Suddenly fear tore through her, fear for her child fear for her life, fear for everything. Drogon growled confusedly, he two did not understand how the Night King was still standing, his horse had been eviscerated but he was not? A coldness began to seep through her, for the first time in her life she realized that there were enemies even Drogon could not take on. She worked a dry swallow down as she quickly began to turn Drogon away, as she did she saw the blur of an ice javelin being thrown past her just grazing by her head.

A whimper escaped from her, gone was her confidence and assurance, the only thing she had in mind was to run and save Drogon, which is what she did. She joined back with Sigligon and Korb, she passed by them with little regard. They followed behind protecting her back as she flew back towards the safety of Winterfell. There they circled a few times, she gazed down to see lots of movement in the castle, men running to and fro she frowned and scanned for an area to land safely within the walls.

After a little searching, she spotted a place, there was a small square of space near the entrance to the Godswood, there was no one there and there was room for her to land Drogon. Down they went, Drogon landing softly on the ground. She quickly made her way off Drogon, her exhaustion beginning to take hold. Drogon flew away crying out to Rheagal in the sky. Next came Siglgion on Kastamere, Daenerys hugged close to the nearby wall as the larger red dragon squeezed himself in the space, letting Sigligon and to Daenerys' surprise another woman off of Meledarys back.

It was Lady Brienne of Tarth, the tall blonde woman stood shakily, her eyes wide in leftover fear her lips tight. Meledarys shot up into the sky and Sigligon escorted Brienne out of the way. Kastamere landed with little regard the ground shook on his impact. Two men then half rolled half fell off of the dragons back. Korb fell on his back, groaning out loud as he did so. Sigligon rushed to him and tried to get him to sit up. The other figure made Daenerys blood boil, it was Jaime Lannister. The man was on his belly in the snow his face pale and he clutched at the ground like a toddler would a toy.

Despite her hatred, she found this amusing, to see such a proud man brought so low. Korb turned to face Ser Jaime, and Daenerys was stunned by what he said next. "Thank-you Ser Jaime, if it wasn't for you we would both be dead." Jaime did not reply he only gave the smallest of nods and lay there panting. "As well as Lady Brienne" Siglgion added tending to the wound in Korb's thigh. Daenerys stepped forward and glanced at it. She winced, it looked painful and there was a lot of blood. Korb's face nearly matched the snow.

Kastamere churred in his throat and sniffed Korb a few times. Daenerys could see the confusion in the dragon's eyes. Sigligon turned to Kastamere and set a hand on his nose. "Be calm Kasta, he will be fine, go join Mele." the dragon huffed but did as she instructed flying up into the sky. It hit Daenerys then that the sky was lightening up it must be close to dawn. 

She turned over to Ser Jaime, the man who had slain her father, the man who was without a doubt second to the Night King and Cersei, was her enemy. Her lip curled in disgust at the thought of him astride one of her dragons, but as she glanced down to Korb and the state he was in, perhaps there was a reason why her DragonKeepers chose to allow  _him_ near her precious dragons, the symbol of her family and her pride.

Sigligon was working fervently wrapping and staunching the wound on Korb's leg. The man grimaced in pain making Daenerys wish she knew what to do to help. Lady Brienne stepped up next to her. Daenerys tilted her head up to the tall woman. "Your Grace," she said kindly and respectfully. She then turned and was scanning the area, Daenerys noticed her sullen face frown, a hand reached down to her sword-hilt.

Daenerys had been around enough warriors to know this motion meant something wasn't right. She turned her head and scanned her surroundings, listening as hard as she could. Deafening silence, like all the sound in the world, had been whisked away. Daenerys stood a bit closer to Brienne. Then the screaming began, it wasn't the screaming of the dead, these were the screams of the living.

Hoarsely their voices filled the air, she heard cries of "Burn them all fast!" "He's raising them!" But they all cascaded into a blur of noise. Unsure of what was happening she felt fear fill her. Sigligon stood up wielding a blade. Ser Jaime staggered up and glanced around disconcertingly. He turned back and he and Brienne shared a knowing look, they drew their blades.

Daenerys felt vulnerable, on the ground she had no fighting skills to speak of. She could wield a dagger if necessary but she had always had personal guards so she found no need to train herself, perhaps she should have been smarter. Footsteps began to trample towards them, Korb grunted and attempted to stand up but failed to do so.

Daenerys pressed her back against the wall, Sigligon positioned herself next to her protectively. Daenerys drew strength from her blue eyes. A group of Winterfell soldiers ran through a nearby archway, and she relaxed and heaved a sigh of relief, that is until she saw the pale blue eyes and gray skin. They snapped their heads towards their small group, then rushed them.

Ser Jaime and Brienne squared off against the surging force. Ser Jaime readied his blade and swung at the first dead soldier. His blade slicing through the exposed flesh of its face. The creature's mouth gaped open far too wide before it fell away into ash. Brienne kicked a creature away then stabbed her blade into it, it screeched out as it disintegrated. 

Together both of them defended her. Risking their lives for her, neither was sworn to truly protect her, especially not Ser Jaime and yet here he was fighting back with all his might, a cornered lion defiant to the very end. Sigligon stepped in when the creatures were to thick for the two blonde warriors. She moved fast and agile, lacking the strength that Ser Jaime and Brienne possessed she made up for it intact and agility.

He screamed out defiantly, wielding her Valyrian steel blade she sliced through who and whatever she could. Daenerys leaned down and helped Korb to his feet, an act he had been struggling to do since the beginning. Once he was standing he drew his second blade. Daenerys had to grab him by his elbow to stop him from entering the fray.

Panicked and not knowing what to do she stood there as a support to keep Korb standing. She searched the sky for her children but they were not to be seen. The numbers of the creatures were spiraling out of control, her three protectors would be unable to hold them back for much longer. They were trapped like rats, their backs literally against the wall. Ser Jaime turned back towards them "Run for the keep, all of you!" he roared. In her fear she allowed herself to listen to Ser Jaime. Her and Korb ran, he limped and leaned on her slightly but his adrenaline kicked in and he ran tall and strong beside her. 

A low moan grabbed her attention. She glanced up to the wall, there stood several dead men. Glossy blue eyes staring unwavering, her and Korb stopped. Korb put an arm out and safely swept her behind him. The creatures toppled and rolled off the wall, their bodies bursting open and their limbs shattering but they still rose to face them. Daenerys felt her heart beat faster than it ever had before. She turned to see Sigligon, Brienne and Ser Jaime run up to them. They were surrounded, no place to escape. One by one, Korb, Sigligon Ser Jaime, and Brienne readied themselves, forming a protective barrier around helpless her.

The creatures converged. Daenerys was jostled about, screaming as black and gray arms tried to snatch at her. As bony teeth sneered and snapped. There were Northmen, Dothraki and even a few of her Unsullied amongst the numbers. Her heart wept to see her people changed like so. It was making sense now what the screams were about before, the Night King must have raised them. She hid behind Korb's back, the man roared like a wild beast and fought off his attackers valiantly. Sigligon struggled with her load but remained on the winning side of all her encounters.

She turned and saw Ser Jaime's face, he strained and heaved as a creature snarled in his face. She noticed then how aged he was. Salt and pepper in his beard, beginning streaks of gray in his hair. He was no longer the golden-haired man Lion son she was told stories about. He was just another man fighting for his life. Same as her, same as Korb and Brienne, and of course Sigligon all of them were struggling. Daenerys felt her leg get taken out from under her, a creature had crawled under the protective barrier of swords.

She screamed and kicked out clawing at the snow and mud. She looked down at the gaping black maw of one of the Lannister soldiers that had come with Ser Jaime. Without hesitation Ser Jaime plunged his sword through the creature's head, it disintegrated in its gold and red armor. Daenerys kicked back away from the creature and managed to stand herself up. Her silver hair was swept into her face by a gust of wind. Then she heard a hoarse cry of a man screaming "Protect the Queen!" she whipped her head around and saw Jon and a large ragtag group of his men, Unsullied, and even some of the Sothern troops.

She felt relief as she watched as this small army converged on the creatures attacking them and finally snuffed them out for good. When the last one was finished off all of them stood there, panting exhausted rocking back and forth on their feet. Some men straight up collapsed onto the ground not a care in the world. Korb was one of those, Daenerys turned and watched Sigligon comfort him before Korb waved her off. Sigligon stood and glanced around for a few seconds before without a word she began administering medical care on those nearby.

Jon staggered over to her. She turned wanting to reach out and touch his face, he was bleeding from an injury on his cheek. His hair was slick against his scalp from the sweat. He spoke, his voice tired and raw from yelling commands all night. "Are..you okay?" Daenerys nodded slowly weariness beginning to settle into her bones. "What happened?" she asked. Jon frowned at her for a few seconds "The Night King raised the men that had died during the battle, most joined back with his force, but some of them within the keep and whatnot attacked us, we had to go yard by yard to clear em"  He explained. 

Daenerys nodded "I...I see" A silence fell. "We survived at least" she murmured. Jon gave a curt nod in reply. "But at what cost?" he stated firmly. Daenerys glanced up as her children circled above her, calling out to her. She smiled fondly up at them, a pang of worry went for Rheagal who flew raggedly but Sigligon assured her he would heal. A man suddenly came running up, war hammer in hand. Dark black hair and strong figure he yelled for Jon. Jon turned quickly wincing as he did.

"The crypts! They're in the crypts!" he yelled his face contorted in horror. Daenerys felt her heart drop, Missandei and Tyrion and all the rest of the people! Jon and whatever men took off running after a pause so did Daenerys. A few Unsullied fell in about her as they raced towards the crypts. While she did she hoped that everyone would be okay.

 

 


End file.
